


The Lost and Forgotten

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: 1970s, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fog, Horror, Human AU, Inspired by Silent Hill 2, Inspired by The Mist, Literal Sleeping Together, Lost - Freeform, Monsters, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Vietnam War, Violence, cursing, fog and mist with scary stuff, there will be monster killing violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 01:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12545768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne's sister and father are missing.No one will help her, so she and Sunny head off to search for them.





	1. Angel with a Handgun

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a Halloween one shot and I realized halfway through I couldn't tell the story I wanted in only a handful a pages. I'm going to try and finished before New Years. :fingers crossed: Hahaha...yeah I'm funny.

A cool fog floated over the town, rolling through the streets like a silent predator. Throughout the town no one and nothing other than the mist stirred. The fog settled, hovering along the streets and with it came the darkness. All was silent. 

From inside the remains of an old house, Bog watched from the window; the only color about him was the blue of his eyes. The blue was almost electric the way the color stood out from the rest of him. He was tall and thin, everything about him was long and sharp from his hooked nose to his cheekbones. Bog stared out into the fog with narrowed eyes. He could see shadows moving, but could never tell how close they actually were. He frowned and wrapped his arms around himself. 

Someone would be coming soon through the veil. He could sense it...Bog closed his eyes and sighed. He hated it when someone punched through the barrier...they never lived long and he hated to watch them die. He had managed to save a few—a very precious few over the years—but usually he never made it in time to save them. His newest rescues even now were hidden in the room downstairs and he would give his life to protect them. He didn't know or understand why, but these two people were special. He had sensed it the moment they broke through the veil. He inexplicably always knew when someone stumbled through... 

But now, it knew they were here and it was coming for them... 

* 

Marianne came home from work and threw her purse across the room in anger, the purse slamming against the wall and the contents spilling across the floor. She had quit her job when her boss refused to give her time off, telling her that three days for the funeral was enough, that two weeks bereavement was excessive. EXCESSIVE!! Marianne couldn't believe that management expected her to grieve the loss of her family, her father and sister, in three days. 

Marianne threw herself onto the couch in the middle of her living room, rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands while trying not to cry. Her father and sister had vanished going on two months now and had been declared dead two weeks ago thanks to her fucking aunt who had friends in the insurance agency and in the police department, she was certain. Marianne dropped her elbows on her knees and covered her face muttering to herself. “I will not cry, I will not cry.” 

But those fucking tears came anyway, rolling down her cheeks no matter how angry she was...The yawning pit that was her loneliness and grief widened.”I can't give up,” Marianne muttered. “I know they're alive...I just know it.” 

Marianne stood up and went back to her room to gather the notebooks and other items that she had collected in the two months since their disappearance. Supposedly, they had been killed in a car wreck since the remains of her father's car had been found outside an abandoned town called Sàmhchair. The assumption by the police around there—because of the lack of bodies—was that her father and sister had either wandered off from the wreck and died of exposure or animals had dragged the bodies off. By the amount of blood in the wreck of the car, the police didn't think anyone could have survived. The police had told her that there was a known packs of coyotes and some wild dogs in the area (There was an animal shelter in the area years ago that supposedly let their animals just go when the place shut down, giving rise to packs of wild dogs in the region.) It was—the authorities assured her—only a matter of time before the bodies were found. 

Marianne sighed. It was all so...fishy as far as she was concerned. The police there had no interest in finding her family. It was almost as if they were scared to search those woods...spooked by the area itself. They wouldn't even go into the abandoned town telling her it was too dangerous, no one would have survived...she had tried talking to the police here, but that was another dead end...no one would help her. So she had determined to do it on her own. 

She sat down and flipped open the spiral notebook looking at the paper clipping she had stuck in the pages, all of it about the town where their car had been found. People had been going missing in this area for years...just...vanishing. The disappearances went back to the time the area was first settled in the 1600's when a whole colony of people vanished. That in and of itself was eerie. 

The town had been established sometime in the early 1800's. A small community at first, but it had quickly expanded. The place had been a thriving logging and mining town for a few years, but during a blizzard in the year of 1898 the town had become cut off, the roads and trails impassable. It wasn't until the spring of 1899 that someone had finally made their way to the town only to discover the whole place was abandoned. Everyone, even the animals, were gone. All their belongings had been left behind, food on the tables, clothing, books...money, all of their material items remained, but the people were gone. 

The town had been occupied again in the 1970s, bought by some rich man named Georgia Linn, with plans to turn the place into a tourist destination, a haunted town for tourists to explore. He had rebuilt the town, saving as many of the original buildings as he could, but then a stormed moved in. A horrible thunderstorm with hail and 80-90 mile per hour winds. The article she found said that Georgia and his construction crew were forced to stay on site until the storm cleared. 

When the storm cleared...everyone was gone. 

There were other small stories over the years of hikers, hitchhikers...just other people, mysteriously disappearing in the area. All of it strange, but ultimately forgotten except as stories. 

Marianne closed the notebook with a shudder. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to head to Sàmhchair and find her family. Marianne picked up her cellphone and punched in a number. The phone on the other end was picked up on the second ring. 

“Marianne?” Sunny's voice was tense. 

Marianne sighed. “Remember when I was talking about going to Sàmhchair myself to look for clues?” 

“Yeah...are we going?” Sunny asked. Marianne could hear the anger, fear and intensity in his voice. 

“Yeah, we're going. Can you be here in the morning?” Marianne asked hopefully. 

She could almost see the smile in Sunnys voice. “Wild horses couldn't keep me away.” 

“Thanks Sunny,” Marianne said softly. “I'll see you in the morning.” 

* 

Bog was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and had strapped a backpack on his back. He moved silently (carrying a Japanese butcher's cleaver he had found not long after losing his rifle), carefully, a deadly predator making his way between the crumbling buildings of the town, foraging for food for the people in his care. The fog was heavy, hanging on him and the world around him like a thick wool cloak, muffling all sound as well as making vision almost impossible beyond a few paces. He had left his charges in the only safe place in Sàmhchair...the cellar of what had once been his home before the darkness came. He didn't understand why it was a safe place, why the fog and the monsters never came there, but he wouldn't question why; he was simply thankful that it was...or he would have died long ago. 

Bog crouched and looked between two cars. He couldn't see anything at the moment, but that meant very little here. He quickly and silently dashed across the street heading toward the remains of the grocery store...another oddity in a town full of the strange. The food there never spoiled and never ran out. It was as if whatever the rules were for this...hellish purgatory...allowing those trapped here to starve was not part of the plan. 

Bog made it across the street and stopped, crouching down beside the truck. He was close enough now that he could see the front of the store through the fog. 

Bog frowned as he studied the store. There was no rhyme or reason to the architecture of this place. Sometimes buildings looked as they did when he worked here in 1976, while other buildings seemed much, much older. Then there were the people that came through...sometimes he had no idea what time period they represented, maybe from the future? That thought always made him chuckle...the future...but then other times the people that showed up looked like they came from the past...as if whatever was outside this town pulled on other periods of time...other planes of existence...Bog shook the thoughts from his head. It was all too much to think about now...not like he hadn't thought about it over the years, but when he was foraging it was neither the time nor the place to contemplate questions he would never find answers to. All he knew was that this was some sort of purgatory, he was stuck here and it was his job—a job he had taken upon himself to pursue—to take care of those he could when they came through the veil. 

He tried his best. Most times they left, thinking they could fair better on their own, or convinced they could find a way home...others just died. Bog clenched his teeth; the two people he was taking care of now, Dagda and Dawn...they were tough, special and he enjoyed their company, especially Dawn. She reminded him of his own little sister, probably long dead by now...or who knew...maybe still the young college girl he remembered... 

Bog growled at himself for letting his thoughts drift again. He needed to focus, grab food, get home—then he could daydream if he wanted. 

Bog listened carefully. He could hear something, far in the distance, the shuffling and gurgle of something moving, but he couldn't see a shadow in the fog so hopefully it was far enough away that he wouldn't have to worry about it. He was only armed with the butcher knife, but it would simply have to do. 

Bog took off at a run for the front of the store hoping to slide inside when something whipped out of the fog and grabbed him around the waist, yanking him off his feet. Bog gasped in pain feeling the hooked claws dig into his flesh. The monster yanked Bog through the fog toward it, dragging his struggling body over the cement while Bog struggled to grasp onto something to prevent himself from being dragged along, but the creature was too strong. Bog snarled and yanked the cleaver he was carrying off his belt. He had it on a hooked on his belt, popping it free and bringing the sharp edge down on the gelatinous grey flesh, the razor fine edge cutting through the deep flesh causing the rise of oily black blood to seep through the wound. The substance dripped and hissed when the black ooze that was the monster's blood hit the ground. The blood splattered on Bog too, burning tiny patches through his clothing and onto his skin which instantly blistered. 

Bog ignored the pain and kept chopping at the appendage wrapped around his middle, the black blood flying with each chop of the cleaver. Bog was so focused on the task at hand that he didn't notice until it was almost too late that he had been dragged to the body of the monster. 

The creature looked thick and rubbery, stuck at an angle against the side of a building, the thin light caused a strange glistening on its grey skin. There was a middle mass from which several clawed tentacles extended and as Bog was dragged closer he could see the huge fanged mouth that dominated the center of the body, surrounded by several smaller mouths. If the creature had eyes, Bog couldn't see them, but it had far too many fanged mouths for any creature. Another tentacle whipped out, trying to grab for the hand that held the cleaver, but Bog blocked with his left arm. The tentacle wrapped itself around Bog's left arm, causing blinding pain to shoot through him when the claws pierced his flesh, and blood immediately started to leak from those wounds. Bog cursed, the more blood this creature spilled—his blood—the more likely it was to attract other monsters. 

Bog brought the cleaver down with as much force as he could, chopping through the thick rubbery flesh with each stoke, gritting his teeth in desperation until suddenly the last bit of the tentacle snapped loose. Bog stumbled backwards when he chopped the tentacle in half, black blood spurting everywhere. The creature let out a horrible cry that ran like ice over Bog's skin, but then the tentacle around his arm dropped away and Bog fell to the ground. 

Bog hit the cement awkwardly on his knee, the remains of the tentacle around his waist falling to the ground, but he didn't let that stop him as he rolled behind a large furniture truck trying to avoid the spraying blood and the angered, pain-wracked monster. Bog looked down at his torn shirt and equally torn skin on both his torso and his arm. The wounds were not life threatening, but the smell of blood and the noises of the wounded monster would attract other...things. 

Bog cursed. He had a choice: go back or continue his mission. And Bog knew he couldn't go back without food. 

The tall man cursed again out loud, voicing his frustration and anger with one syllable. “Fuck.” 

* 

It was just beginning to turn to evening, the grey sky became darker, large clouds heavy with rain rolled in causing what little sunlight there was to fade even further. Marianne turned the headlights on just as she and Sunny noticed their first road sign telling them they were getting close to the abandoned town of Sàmhchair. Marianne's grip on the steering wheel was tight enough that her knuckles looked white, while Sunny—the state map laided out across his lap and the dash—looked distracted. He frowned as he examined the map. Marianne's car was too old to have a GPS, so they were using an old fold-out map they had picked up at a gas station. 

Sunny glanced up from his examination of the map. “Well, we just passed the first exit. We want to take the third exit...that's the one the police think your Dad took.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...yeah it is.” 

Sunny frowned watching Marianne. “You ever figure out why they were out here?” 

Marianne shook her head. “No. Neither of them left anything telling me why...the last thing I got from either of them was that message on my phone I told you about, Dawn saying they were making a detour on the way home from touring that college. I still don't understand why they were all the way out here.” Marianne's voice trailed off. Sunny stared out the windshield. Marianne glanced sideways at him before reaching out and squeezing his hand. “I believe she's alive Sunny. I really do.” 

Sunny smiled weakly. “It's been hell without her.” 

Marianne nodded. Not that she understood completely. She had never had the kind of relationship Sunny and Dawn had...They had been together since they were both fourteen. That was ten years now and they were stronger than ever. She had never seen that kind of love and she refused to believe that it was over. Marianne reached down and grabbed her soda, deftly opening the cap with her fingers without taking her eyes off the road. 

“We're going to get her back Sunny. I believe it. She and my dad are alive and we are going to find them.” 

Sunny nodded. “I believe you,” he said softly reaching over and squeezing her hand in return. Marianne smiled at him in what she hoped was a confident gesture before focusing back on the road. 

They drove in silence for a few more miles until the exit they wanted appeared on their right. Marianne turned down the exit. There was little traffic, just one or two cars passing them. The road became lined with pine trees, which quickly became thicker until she couldn't see beyond them on either side of the road. Then just as she realized she hadn't seen another vehicle for the last mile or so, a heavy fog started to roll in across the road and through the trees. On top of that, an eerie silence fell over everything, as if something was muffling the sound. The temperature began to fall and the windows of the car started to pick up a thin film of frost. Sunny peered out the window, watching as a large cloud bank seemed to appear ahead of them thicker and heavier looking than the fog that rolled around them. 

“Marianne, do you see that?” Sunny's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes focused on the fog before them. It looked like a solid grey wall of fog. 

Marianne frowned too. “That's strange.” 

“Do...do you think we should stop?” Sunny glanced behind them, but all he saw was more fog; thick, cold, grey fog. As Sunny peered behind them it looked as if the road disappeared. There were no other cars, no road signs...nothing but a small section of the road behind them and in front of them, the trees and the fog. 

Marianne started to put her foot on the break, but the fog suddenly seemed to move. Marianne hissed. “FUCK!” 

Sunny grabbed her arm as the fog rolled over them. 

* 

Marianne couldn't remember exactly what happened next. The fog rolled over them and then suddenly they were on the edge of a town. Marianne was holding onto the steering wheel, her knuckles white and Sunny had his mouth open as if he were about to scream, but he was making no sound. The car rolled into town past the sign that read “WELCOME TO Sàmhchair,” the name of the town was displayed in curve lettering on the sign. 

Marianne stared at the sign as the car continued to roll past it, continuing to roll silently before the car came to a stop all on its own. 

Marianne turned the key, but nothing happened. She tried again, but the engine was indeed dead. Sunny looked around. “Where the hell are we?” 

“Did you see the sign? We're here...Sàmhchair,” Marianne said softly her voice barely a whisper. 

Sunny looked around. “This is creepy.” 

Marianne nodded then slowly opened her door. “Come on. Maybe we can find someone who can give us some answers.” 

Sunny stepped out of the car. “I don't like this Marianne. This...this is weird.” 

Marianne stopped and leaned over to the glove compartment, popping it open and pulled out a Glock 17. 

Sunny's eyes became huge. “Where the hell did you get that?” 

Marianne smiled. “Bought it after my family disappeared. I have a baseball bat in the trunk if you want it.” 

Sunny nodded appreciatively. “Fuck yeah I do.” 

* 

After they were both armed, Marianne took the time to really take in her surroundings. As far as the eye could see, was all fog. She could barely make out the shadows of buildings, but if there were people she sure as hell couldn't see them. Sunny walked around to her side of the car and whispered. “I don't like this one bit,” he repeated when they both heard the sound of someone in trouble. 

* 

Bog's body hit the sidewalk hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Pain reverberated through his entire body causing the bloody wounds he had from his previous encounter to burn and bleed again. He had almost made it inside the grocery store, his fingers brushing the glass doors when he was attacked again. 

The creature on top of him dug its skeletal clawed feet into his back (it had already torn the backpack from his back and he had no idea where that had gone) and tried once more to lift him into the air, the sound of its wings flapped once, then twice, beating the air above him. Bog twisted his body around causing its boney claws to rake across his back, ripping his shirt and skin at the same time, but he broke free of its grasp. He swung with his cleaver, but the creature jerked its long skinny body into the air, the blade cutting through empty air. The creature was roughly humanoid, with arms and legs like a human, but far too long, its body more skeleton than flesh though it did have something like skin that hung on its unnaturally gaunt frame in weathered and decaying bits. Its long head resembled the giant skull of a bird of some kind and its thin body had large black feathered wings and a long bone-like tail that whipped around angrily behind it. The creature let out a strange noise that was a cross between a scream and a bird of prey's screech before it took another dive at him. Bog rolled, the creature's claws barely missing him. 

Bog scrambled to get to his feet when another of the winged creatures joined it. Bog cursed. “Motherfucker!” 

As the second creature swooped down at him, Bog did the only thing he could, he brought his already injured left arm up in an attempt to protect himself from having his face clawed or his eyes torn out when the loud echo snap that reminded Bog of a piece of wood slamming against another—the sound of a gun—went off. The sound was so loud even in the fog that for a moment Bog's ears were ringing. The second creature was hit, a bullet ripping through its chest, then a second and a third all done in quick succession. It hit the ground, screeching and squawking, its large wings flapping crazily. Its “mate” took off, its wings beating the air hard taking the monster straight up and into the obscuring fog. 

Bog turned toward the sound of the weapon and saw a woman standing with a young dark-skinned man at her side. The woman looked like an angel, an angel holding a handgun. She rushed forward past him toward the monster and fired off her weapon two more times, the weapon's rounds ripping into the creature until it stopped moving. This close, Bog could hear her panting breath...she was on the verge of panic. 

Bog hissed. “Follow me, come on!” 

He took off at a limping run. He couldn't wait to see if they followed him. That sound, plus the sounds of the fight and his blood were sure to draw more monsters to them. The store wasn't safe, exactly, but it was far safer than being out here exposed in the open. He rushed for the doors, limping down the sidewalk just now realizing that there was a long deep wound down his thigh. (Why didn't I feel that one? Bog wondered to himself.) 

He hurled himself at the door when he was close enough, nearly falling on his face again when the doors flew open. The only reason he didn't was that his angel was right behind him. She grabbed him, stopped him from falling and without a word wrapped her arm around his waist to lift him and drag him at the same time through the doors with the smaller man right behind her. 

Bog hissed. “There, over there!” 

He pointed to the far end of the store, a corner, no window, easy to defend. The two new people did as he asked, (a good sign, he thought, for their survival) the woman dragging him with her as he limped along until they were in the corner, near the store's freezers. (As with so many other unexplained things in this town, the electricity seemed to work here while it didn't work in other places...no rhyme or reason). She lowered him down and looked around, her brown eyes frantic, the barrel of her pistol pointed toward the floor. All of them were panting, their breaths coming in rapid inhales and exhales; Bog's from exhaustion, the two newbies from trying not to panic. After a few minutes of them all waiting, the woman still held her handgun out and the smaller man armed with a baseball bat that Bog only now noticed, stood in front of him, both of them trembling. But when nothing came bursting into the store after them, the woman calmed—if only slightly—and turned around to stare at him. 

“What the fuck were those?” she hissed through her teeth. Bog could tell she was just barely keeping herself from yelling. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the frantic look in her eyes. She was doing an admirable job not losing her cool, but she was struggling. And she was still armed, he noted with some small concern. The young man beside her kept looking at her, then him then back out into the store. He was in less control than his female friend Bog thought. 

Bog frowned, looking up at her. He had thought he felt something enter through the veil, but he had been a little too preoccupied at that moment to be sure...but now...two new people...two people he needed to protect...or in this instant, needed their protection... 

“I don't know. I call them Vanths...like the creatures from Etruscan myths,” Bog said softly pushing himself to his feet. He winced when he did so, using the wall to balance himself. He must have lost more blood than he thought; the claw mark on his thigh was deeper than he realized. He need to stop the bleeding. 

The woman's expression was confused. 

The young man muttered, his voice building in pitch as the panic threatened to take over. “What the fuck is going on here? Where are we? What were those things? Are there more?” 

Bog sighed. “Look, I'm here for some food. If you want, you two can come back with me. My place is safe, those monsters...none of them can enter. It will give us a chance to talk and I can explain what I know...which isn't much, but it'll be something. Now, if I don't stop this bleeding we aren't going to get far; they can smell blood...” 

“Who can?” Sunny asked in a quiet voice, the whites of his eyes showing, but it was clear he already had an idea of what the tall man was talking about. 

Bog frowned. He felt bad for the young man. Hell, he felt bad for all of them. 

The kid was clearly going into some sort of shock, and who could blame him? His world, his normal had just been turned upside down and though he didn't know it yet, his world would never be the same. Bog put a hand out to calm the young man, only to snatch it back when he realized his hand was covered in blood. The dark-skinned young man stared at Bog his expression a mix between revulsion at the sight of blood and worry, but the woman put a hand on the young man's shoulder. “Sunny, can you find us a first aid kit?” 

Sunny frowned, but glanced at the wounded man. “Yeah...yeah I can.” 

Bog pointed. “There should be some along that aisle.” Bog pointed and the young man nodded stepping down the aisle. 

The woman turned to face him. The man was odd. He reminded her of some of the pictures she had seen of her father from the 1970's. His black hair was worn shoulder-length, a little shaggy reminding her a little bit of Henry Winkler, with the 1970s sideburns, a slightly feathered back style. He also looked as if he hadn't shaved in a day or two...and his clothing was really dated. “Who are you and where are we?” she demanded. 

Bog could tell the woman was doing her best to keep some resemblance of calm. Bog frowned. “You're in a version of Sàmhchair. Where, when, I couldn't say...hell I don't know and I've been here for a long fucking time and I've seen people come and go. My name is Bothain King, but everyone...if there were an “everyone” calls me Bog.” 

She stared at him, then took a breath and said softly. “I'm Marianne. I'm looking for my sister Dawn and my father.” 

Bog stared at her. “Marianne? Marianne Summerfield?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, yes...how...how did you know?” 

Bog opened his mouth to answer her when there was the sound of broken glass, a crash that was followed by the sound of Sunny's scream. Marianne whipped around, her gun aimed toward the sound. 

* 

Sunny found the first aid kits easily enough. He picked it up and shoved the kit under his arm, setting the bat against one of the shelves when he crouched down to pick up some first-aid creme. That was when something caught his eye. He frowned standing up before stepping closer to the window. He was sure he saw something moving out there in the fog. He leaned against the glass, putting his hand over his eyebrows and stared hard out into the grey fog. Yes, he saw something. As Sunny watched, the shadow seemed to gain shape and mass...then suddenly the monster burst from the fog and slammed into the glass. The thing that slapped into the glass reminded Sunny of a squid except horribly monstrous, too many eyes, too many clawed tentacles and the worst part was the fleshy wings, but then when Sunny thought he couldn't be grossed out any more, the mouth, looking like the giant, circle layered hooked orifice of a leech, hit the window and started a spider webbing of cracks to spread from it. Sunny gasped, turned, and ran down the aisle. 

* 

Sunny burst from between two aisle and yelled. “SOMETHING JUST BROKE IN!” 

That was when Bog and Marianne heard the sound of something flopping around, the wet, squishy sound of wet or slimy flesh hitting the tile floor, and by the sounds of it, pulling itself along the floor. 

Bog snarled. “Grab some food, anything, and follow me.” 

Marianne looked around frantically her eyes landing on a couple of loaves of bread which she grabbed by the plastic necks of their bags. Sunny already had a first aid kit under his arm and he reached out and blindly grabbed a bag of rice as he raced past the shelves. Bog shoved himself to his feet and reached into the freezer next to him grabbing the first thing he could lay his free hands on, a couple of packages of sausages. Damn it he thought, wishing he had been able to keep the backpack, but he shoved the frozen meat under his arm and headed toward the back of the store. 

Limping, Bog led them through the back storage room of the grocery store heading straight for a heavy metal door. Bog slammed into the door with all his weight to force it open. The door opened up onto a dirty alley with the remains of trash dumpster and some debris. Bog immediately turned to the left. 

Marianne was right behind him. She reached out to grab his shoulder. “It's a dead end!” 

Bog spared a glance at her. “Trust me.” 

Marianne wanted to protest. She didn't know him, so how the hell was she supposed to trust him?! He knew her name! That was weird, but then again...monsters...weirder... 

But something in her told her to trust the tall man, and she really didn't see that she had a lot of choices. 

Bog hit the dumpster and climbed up. Marianne and Sunny followed him. He was moving slowly and fresh blood had started to ooze down his wounded thigh, but he didn't stop. Once on top of the dumper he jumped up, barely grabbing hold of the metal edge of a rusted fire escape ladder. His weight pulled the ladder down, the whole thing making a loud sound as the ladder's feet hit the alley floor that set Marianne's teeth on edge. 

Bog motioned. “Come on, we gotta move...” 

That was the moment all three of them heard something enter the alley. 

They turned as one to see a huge monster blocking the pale light. The creature looked like an eight-legged pale reddish-grey dragonfly-winged spider. The creature's many eyes were staring straight at them. 

Marianne didn't think of herself as the screaming type, but this creature made her scream.


	2. Safe Haven

The monster let out another screech that seemed to be a living thing of its own, crawling along the skin and scraping inside one's skull. Marianne felt the vibration of the cry seep through her skin and right into the marrow of her bones; the sound seemed to roll over her skin and sink through making her blood cold and her stomach turn to liquid. The urge to scream again in response was almost overpowering, but she fought it, clamping her teeth together. 

Bog, on the other hand, cursed loudly. “Motherfucker!” 

Marianne turned to look at Bog...for some reason his curse made her giggle. It was probably the craziness of the situation, monsters...real live...wanting to kill them monsters that made her want to laugh hysterically. She chuckled, her brown eyes a little too wide, but Bog grabbed her by the shoulder, the pain of his grip bringing her back from the brink of hysteria and spun her around before he shoved her toward the wall they had been about to scale He pushed the frozen food he held into her grip while at the same time throwing her behind him. “Go go!” 

Then the tall, lean stranger put himself between the creature and her, armed with only his cleaver. 

Marianne stumbled when Bog shoved her, but instead of doing what Bog asked, Marianne tossed the food over the wall and turned to stand beside him, her weapon out. 

“Sunny go.” 

Sunny, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull at the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing, hissed. 

“Fuck that! I'm not going over that wall by myself! Besides three against one are good odds...I think.” 

Sunny glanced around looking for anything to use as a weapon, his eyes landing on a large 2x4 that had splintered on one end, a few rusty nails still stuck in the old wood that had been weathered and warped. It wasn't a great weapon, but it was better than nothing, Sunny thought grabbing it up and hoping that maybe he wouldn't have to use it. Bog looked at the two of them, an expression of disbelief mixed with exasperation across his long sharp features. If he had the time he would have cursed them both out for being stupid. That was one of the many things you learned being trapped in this hell...put your own life first...not that Bog had ever done that, but it wasn't the point. The point was, they should, but despite his anger he was, in fact, glad they were ready to fight beside him. He would welcome the help; he was after all one man and he had two other people squirreled away (hopefully safe he thought) who needed him to come back. In all the time he had been here, stuck in this place, he had never had newbies stand by his side so quickly or so willingly...the newbies usually took off, scared beyond reason or too worried about their own hides to worry about helping a stranger. Abandoning him the first chance they got...until that was exactly what Bog expected, to be abandoned. 

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He didn't know much about this woman beside him, but he had to admire her courage and that of her friend. Marianne glanced sideways at the man beside her and blinked. His smile...was...damn. He had quite a smile. For a split second Marianne was wondering what the hell was wrong with her....monster in front of her and she was becoming all enamored by a crooked tooth smile? 

She didn't have time to contemplate Bog's grin further when the creature let out a blood chilling screech and began to scuttle toward them. Bog held his cleaver in front of him as he spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “If you can, shoot it in the eye.” 

Marianne stared aghast at both Bog and the monster that hissed and started to creep toward them. “Where's its fucking eyes?” 

Mentally Marianne did a quick headcount of her bullets, her Glock held fifteen and she had spent three. The creature hissed louder, brought her attention back to the now. For a moment she thought about the Lord of the Rings movies and the fight with Shelob...never in her wildest dreams did she ever see herself in a sitaution like this...thank goodness she took that damn marksman class! 

She steadied her weapon aiming at what she assumed were the eyes, tiny deep set black orbs on the sides of the monsters face. She wasn't the best shot but she also wasn't the worst. She fired her gun, the first bullet hit the monster in what she assumed was a head, ripping a across its skull, not hitting an eye, but the bullet did rip along the top, cutting deep across its head; a splatter of black blood sprayed out followed by the creature letting out a pained sounding roar. 

Bog hollered (the yell was mostly to rev himself up and on the loose hope that he might actually scare the monster) leaping forward and slicing through the air trying to keep its attention on him so that Marianne could work on shooting at the creature. The thing scuttled forward, its jaws snapping at Bog, staying clear of Marianne and her gun. It moved surprisingly fast, racing forward toward Bog. He leaped back with a grunt, then forward again to take a swat at it with the cleaver. 

The blade landed flat, hitting across the creature's face, but not doing anything more than annoying it and forcing it back maybe a step or two, the monster hissing and spitting at him like a damned angry snake. Bog twisted back, then, using his long legs, he lunged at the monster only to have it lunge right back at at him. One of its long pointed limbs came down like a knife's blade at Bog, close enough that Bog coule feel the displacement of air against his face. 

Marianne gasped trying to find a postion from which to shoot the monster without hitting Bog, her eyes widening when the monster attacked him. The tall thin man arched back gracefully, the sharp limb missing him by a breath of air. Bog lurched forward puffing with exhaustion. He could feel the fresh ooze of blood when his wounds reopened. He ignored the pain, taking another swipe at the monster, but in the next instant he was forced to dodge yet another razor sharp limb. 

Marianne was holding her gun ready, but the space in the alley was small, narrow, and now that Bog had engaged the monster she was terrified of hitting the stranger. She cursed sliding her gun back into the back of her jeans, her brown eyes searching around for anything to help Bog with when Sunny yelled. “Marianne!” 

She turned just as the shorter man tossed her a 2x4. It was old, but the nails looked sharp. She grinned seeing that Sunny was armed in a similar fashion, then the two of them let out hollers of rage and charged at the monster to help Bog. 

Marianne let out a cry. “GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU BITCH!” 

For just a second Sunny hesitated a step nearly falling when Marianne paralleled the line from the movie, Aliens, just before she brought the 2x4 down on the monsters head. She slid past the monster, her board catching it across the face when she rushed by Bog. The hit caused the monster to screech again taking a step backwards away from her. Bog used the opportunity to lunge forward again, his long legs and arms giving him a good reach. He brought the cleaver down with all his strength and hit the monster square in the forehead with the blade. The cleaver cut through its vile flesh surprisingly easy. Bog buried his cleaver right in the middle of the monster's skull. Bog started to jerk the weapon back, but the monster hissed and yanked itself away from Bog, the cleaver's handle slipping right out of his fingers. 

Bog snarled. “Motherfucker!!” as the cleaver's handle was yanked from his fingers. 

The sound that went up from monster was enough to make the three of them cover their ears. Sunny hurried pass them and swung his 2x4 like a bat, smashing the monster across the face with a terrible ripping and crushing sound of too ripe fruit breaking. 

The monster jerked to the side, the screeching had stopped to be replaced by bubbling choking sounds as thick black blood bubbled from its mouth; the monster's too many legs on one side of its body collapsed. The thing fell and started to struggle, sharper limbs scraping against the brick wall in a frenzy of movement. Bog hoped it was a sign that the creature was dying, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out. 

Bog cursed then turned. “Come on, we got to go, that cry will bring more of them!” 

The three of them rushed for the dumpster, climbing on top of it. Heedless of his injuries, Bog gave Sunny a boost helping the young man up and over the wall, then he grabbed Marianne by way her waist lifting her up. She grabbed the edge and pulled herself over turning to hold her hand out to him. “Come on!” 

Bog took her hand and heaved himself up, the two of them going over the wall together. They grabbed the food they had tossed over and took off at a run. Bog was limping, but he was still managing to run fairly well as he shouted. “Follow me!!” 

* 

They ran for what seemed forever and in the heavy fog it never looked as if they were making any progress. It felt as if they were simply running in place through a world of grey, indistincd shapes and far away—and some closer—alien sounds. Marianne caught glimpses of things in the shadows, but nothing else materialized to attack them. The man named Bog was limping badly after several intense minutes of constant running. Marianne could see the sweat rolling down his face, smearing the splatters of both red and black blood on him. He had grown paler by the minute until Marianne came up to him on his right side and wrapped her arm around his waist surprising him. He jerked away from her, but she held onto him. 

“Put your arm around my shoulders,” she said, her voice soft trying to coax him into trusting her. 

Bog frowned holding his arm up over her head like he was afraid to touch her. Marianne frowned then glared. “Come on, you're slowing us down. Let me help you.” 

Sunny had stopped, watching the fog for anything that might decide to have a go at them, his 2x4 held in front of him. He was going to be damn ready to hit anything that moved. Bog frowned then eased his arm down wrapping it around her shoulders and leaning into her. 

“Thanks,” he muttered simply. 

Marianne nodded. “So which way?” 

“Not far now, the house is just up that hill.” Bog pointed with his other hand. 

The fog made it impossible to see their destination, but she nodded and the three of them started to walk quickly in the direction the tall Scotsman had pointed. After another few minutes of simply moving forward and up a slight incline in the road, they were close enough that Marianne could see the house. It was not just a house, but a grand old Victorian mansion. The house had at least three floors, maybe four, with a wraparound porch. It was all painted white which made the large home look almost like a ghost in the fog. Marianne glanced at Bog. “That's it?” 

Bog nodded with a wince of pain marring his features. “Yeah, that's it.” 

The house was set on a hill with a winding walk way that twisted through what might have been green grass at one time, but now looked pale and drained of color. They made their way to the house and then the arduous climb to the front of the house. Once they had made their way onto the front porch, Bog pushed the door open, letting go of Marianne. He stopped in the doorway looking around then dropped into a crouch. Marianne, standing a little behind him, saw that he had dropped down to disengage a trip wire that ran along the bottom of the doorway. He stood and motioned for them to follow. Sunny and Marianne carefully stepped over threshhold where the wire now lay and followed Bog into the house. 

* 

The inside of the large house looked to be fully furnished with everything you would expect in an old Victorian. The floors looked to be polished wood, the walls a mix of polished wood paneling and the heavily decorative wallpaper favored by the Victorians; the wallpaper was a rich green and gold. The odd thing, Marianne thought, was that everything looked Victorian, from the furniture to the rugs, not replicas, but appeared to be the actual items. Unless this place had been a house museum she thought, but she hadn't seen a sign out front, though maybe she just missed it in the fog. 

As they followed Bog through the home, Marianne noticed there were pictures on the walls, real paintings and the photographs on the wall and over the mantel piece of a fireplace in one of the rooms they passed was littered with old photos in antique frames. 

Marianne frowned looking around, everything seemed almost too authentic to the period. “Was this a house museum?” 

Bog stopped on his way through the kitchen which Marianne saw looked exactly like a kitchen from the period. Anything, everything in the room was from the period of the house. 

“No, it wasn't,” Bog said glancing around. 

“Then what was it? I mean, everything looks to be authentic.” Marianne reached over and picked up a copper kettle from the kitchen table to examine it. The item looked to be brand, new but it was clearly of the Victorian period. She saw no “Made in China” on the bottom. 

Bog shrugged. “I'm assuming it;s actually from that period.” 

Marianne looked confused at the thin man. “Well yeah, but everything looks almost new.” 

Bog frowned at her. “I mean, it's actually from the period okay, that doesn't make sense.” Bog looked tired and flustered. “I mean, that's not what I mean...look...just come on. We can talk about this over something to drink and I need to change. The smell of blood attracts them. We've been damn lucky nothing trailed us here.” Sunny sighed and remained quiet, not trusting himself to speak just yet. 

He turned and headed over to a wooden door at the back of the kitchen. He pulled it open. Inside were a set of stairs leading down. Bog dropped down to a crouch where he was working with something Marianne couldn't quite see. She peered over his shoulder, looking behind them as well, her brown eyes scanning the room, her ears perked for any sound that would indicate that something had invaded the house. Bog spoke softly while he worked at whatever it was she couldn't see. “It's a trap. Not that anything ever comes into this house, but better safe than sorry.” 

Marianne nodded. “Smart,” she said just as Bog stood up and stepped onto the stairs glancing back at the two of them, he motioned with one hand. “Come on you two.” 

* 

They made their way down to the cellar of the house, the stairs creaking softly. Marianne stopped on the stairs looking into the basement, for just a moment wondering if this was a trap, but deciding in the next instant that Bog had done nothing to make her distrust him, which was why she continued down the stairs behind him. Besides, she had a firearm and wasn't afraid to use it against monsters, whatever their shape. 

The room was lit by a few candles. She could see that it was clean, with brick walls that had once been painted white now looking faded, weathered by time or the fog, who knew, but it was monster-free. In the middle of the room there was a wooden table and chairs, some shelves with bottles, cans and other odds and ends on them. There were even a couple of barrels, some stacks of paperback novels, and some additional candles which were flickering softly providing just a little light. The basement looked like it ran the length of the house, with a few twists and turns that disappeared into darkness. 

Bog stopped at the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the wall, exhaustion overcoming him, sweat rolling down his pale face. “It's okay, just me. You can come out.” 

No sooner than the words were out of his mouth, than Dawn appeared. 

She yelped. “BOGGY!!” 

Marianne's little sister came running from the back of the cellar and threw herself into Bog, wrapping her arms around him. The impact of the little blonde was hard enough that he dropped the food he'd been carrying him as the air was knocked from his lungs. He patted her back awkwardly as the young woman buried her face against his chest. 

Bog held her with one arm muttering gently when he could get a breath. “Told you I'd be back.”' 

“Oh Boggy, I was so scared for you!” Dawn voice was muffled against Bog's chest. 

Marianne stood still, both shocked and pleased to see her sister, alive...alive...just like she knew she would be... Marianne's bottom lip trembled. Dawn was alive, she looked thin and pale, but...Sunny saw Dawn, his face blooming in excitement and happiness at seeing her and immediately falling when she ran to Bog. 

“You were gone so long Boggy!” Dawn squeaked, her face still buried against his chest. 

Bog sighed, smiling slightly. “It's okay, I'm back and I brought you a gift.” 

Marianne's voice was a whisper, it was as if she were afraid to say her sister's name too loudly or the illusion would break. “Dawn.” 

Dawn let go of Bog and turned at the sound of her sister's voice. Now that Marianne could really look at her, she could see that Dawn had lost some weigh and her clothing wasn't what she had been wearing when she disappeared. The jeans looked a little too big on her and the button down shirt she wore was a plaid shirt that Dawn wouldn't have been caught dead in back home, but somehow she still managed to look like a ray of sunshine that had taken form. Her blue eyes were bright and her smile ready and radiant. Dawn stared at her sister. It seemed to take her a few moments to realize who she was looking at, but when she did the smile that spread across her face brought tears to her big sister's eyes. 

“MARIANNE!!” Dawn yelled. 

She ploughed into her sister in the next second, wrapping her arms tight around Marianne, nearly lifting her big sister off her feet. 

Marianne squeezed her back with equal enthusiam, her voice choking with emotion. “I knew it! I knew you weren't dead! I knew it.” 

Marianne started to tear up, squeezing her sister until Dawn squeaked. “Marianne, I can't breathe.” 

Marianne laughed, tears falling down her cheeks despite her best efforts not to cry. “I'm sorry Dawn. I just...I knew you weren't gone.” 

Dawn pulled back to smile radiantly at her sister, her mouth open to speak, but then she saw Sunny on the stairs just behind her sister. 

“Sunny?!” Dawn said softly, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh Sunny, you're here too!” Dawn's tears began to flow as she charged up the stairs into Sunny who caught her, nearly toppling off the stairs. Sunny laughed, starting to tear up himself as he held Dawn. 

“Hey Dawn,” he said in a choked voice. Dawn had buried her face against his shoulder holding him tight. She was sobbing against his neck. “Oh Sunny...Sunny...” 

A moment later Marianne heard the voice of her father. “Oh no, Marianne, you're here....” 

Marianne pressed her lips together, fighting a fresh spring of tears when she saw her father standing there by the table smiling at her, his face etched with pain (and a scar along his cheek that hadn't been there when he disappeared.), several new wrinkles, but the fire in her father's eyes was still there. Marianne's voice trembled. “Daddy?” 

Her father looked thinner than she remembered. He was dressed in a set of old clothing that looked right out of the era of the house. Her father was dressed in a pair of brown pants, a wool vest, and a thick white shirt, looking like a gentleman Victorian farmer. He walked over to her slowly, his arms out to her. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” her father said sadly. 

Marianne raced over to him throwing her arms around him. “Oh Daddy!! I knew you and Dawn were alive! I knew it!!” 

Dagda wrapped his arms around his oldest daughter and held her tight. “I should have known you wouldn't have given up trying to find us. I hoped you would bury us and move on, but you were always stubborn, just like your mother.” He looked sad, stroking his daughter's hair, holding her close. “Just as stubborn...” he whispered then sniffled. 

Marianne turned her head as Dawn's gasped. “Oh my god Boggy! You're hurt!” 

Everyone's attention turned to Bog. He was still leaning against the wall looking white as a sheet covered in sweat and blood; his wounds had started to bleed again and he looked as if he were sinking along the wall, his legs barely able to keep him standing. 

He muttered, “I'm fine. Just a few nicks.” 

Dawn rushed over to him wrapping her arms around his waist and led him around the stairs as Sunny closed the basement door and made his way down the stairs, his eyes following Dawn, a tiny flicker of jealously in his gaze while he watched Dawn lay Bog down on a cot tucked behind the stairs. 

“Marianne can you help me?” Dawn asked glancing over to where Marianne was standing hugging their father still. 

Her father gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Go on. We can talk after Bog is taken care of all right?” 

Marianne nodded and hurried over to her sister. Dawn pointed. “The first aid kit is over there.” 

Marianne nodded while Dawn eased Bog out of his shirt. Dagda disappeared and returned a few seconds laters with a bowl of clean water and a rag which he handed to his youngest daughter. 

Dagda frowned. “What happened?” He glanced from Bog to Marianne then Sunny. 

Marianne shuddered. “Monsters.” 

Dagda frowned, but Bog waved his hand in dismissal. “Just...I messed up. Your eldest daughter saved me.” 

Dawn smiled at her sister before she began cleaning his wounds. 

* 

Half an hour later Bog was looking better, his wounds properly tended, clean and he had swallowed a handful of aspirin. He was dressed in a fresh pair of clothing from a duffel bag he had stashed under his cot. Marianne noticed more clearly—now that things weren't after them—that his clothing was dated...like what her father was currently wearing, but from a different era. Bog was dressed in what could only be bell-bottom jeans and a tight jersey style t-shirt (which Marianne thought looked good on the guy with his trim figure and broad shoulders). The shirt had Black Sabbath across the chest in that distinctive curvy, rounded tipped 70's font, but unlike her Dad, Bog's hair was dated too as if the man had stepped right out of the 1970's, that sort of longish shaggy look Marianne always associated with rock bands of the period. He was sitting on the edge of his cot nursing a hot cup of coffee that Dawn had made in an old wood fire stove down here in the basement, which surprised Marianne because back home her sister had never once cooked or offered to cook, yet here she was in this nightmare, running around like a little housewife. 

Dawn had opened some can food, making some baked beans in an old pot on the stove and cooked some of the frozen meat they had brought back with them and made loose meat sandwiches for everyone. The others were all sitting around the table, Bog sitting at his cot. When Dawn set the plates on the table, Marianne looked askance at the food. Bog, who was still sitting on his cot (Dawn having brought over a plate for him) chuckled softly. “Dunna worry, the food is good. Not sure how or why, but the food never spoils and I promise, it ain't monster meat.” He laughed. “I don't understand the logic of this place, but it won't let us starve.” 

Marianne gave Bog a smile and an embarrassed chuckle. “Thanks.” 

There was an old Sony battery powered cassette player on a shelf that Dawn had slipped a tape into just before she began to cook. She had been dancing to the songs at the stove while she cooked. She made quite the picture Marianne thought, almost domestic. 

While the sounds of Heart's “Magic Man” drifted from the tape player, they all sat around the table, Bog on the cot, and talked. 

Marianne sipped her coffee. Everyone was oddly quiet as if no one knew how to break the ice. Marianne decided to speak up, get the ball rolling. “So, ah...what's with the music?” 

Marianne indicated the cassette player with her head. Dawn smiled. “It's Bog's! He had it with him when he got stuck here. That tape's the last thing he got from his sister when he returned to the States.” 

Dawn blushed. “Oh gosh. Sorry Bog, I didn't mean to blurt that all out.” 

Bog smiled and shook his head. “Don't worry about it Dawn. It's fine.” 

Marianne blinked. There was a lot there to unpack. “Okay, first...stuck here? What does that mean? How did we get here? Where are we exactly? And those...those monsters..?” 

Marianne turned to look at Bog. The man still looked tired and weak, but there was a lot more color in his cheeks now as he sat holding his cup of coffee between his legs, the cup balanced between his fingers. 

Bog glanced up at her. Marianne was impressed by his eyes, vibrant blue and soulful, she thought. He spoke softly. “It means...I don't know what it means. All I know is that this place...” 

He used his hand to indicate everything beyond the basement. “All of this is not...anywhere—it's as if this place crosses times and planes of existence. Some of the buildings are out of different periods, different times...this place is just...” Bog frowned looking down at the cup in his hands. “I don't know. Some of the buildings look like they did when I worked here, others...older...some newer? I don't know. What I do know is that I came here for a job about a year after the war and I never got back home.” 

Marianne frowned studying him. “The war?” 

Bog nodded looking back down at the cup he was holding, his expression haunted. “Vietnam.” 

Marianne and Sunny both said at the same time. “What?” 

Bog looked up. “It was 1976 when I got stuck here. Your sister said it was 2017 when she arrived.” Bog glanced at Dawn and her father. “I've met others from different years...some older...some more recent...” He frowned with a tiny shake of his head. “They drift in and out...” 

Marianne stared at him like he was crazy, but when she glanced at her sister and Dad they were both nodding in agreement with the crazy man. 

Marianne shook her head. “It couldn't have been, you don't look that much older than me.” 

Bog grunted. “I'm 33...been 33 for....well for as long as I've been here.” 

Marianne stared at him. “What?” 

Bog smiled. “I guess that means I'm in my 70s.” 

Dawn laughed. “Oh Boggy.” 

The music on the cassette player had changed. The sounds of E.L.O's “Strange Magic” drifted through the cellar. Bog stood up and walked over shutting off the cassette player. He stared at the player, his long fingers brushed across the clear casing over the cassette tape sealed inside the player. Marianne watched his expression; his face was sad, lonely...forlorn. 

Bog's voice was a whisper. “Sorry...my sister sent me that tape. Planned it so when I arrived here, that tape would be waiting for me. Said in the letter it was full of her favorite music. Last music from my period of time...” Bog pressed his lips together. “Last...” He dropped his head, swallowing down tears as he said softly. “I don't even know if she's still alive. I'm sure if she is, she thinks I'm dead by now. Maybe I am dead...” 

Bog sniffed and angrily wiped at his eyes turning back around to face them. He cleared his throat before he spoke, but Marianne could see that his eye were bloodshot, the light catching the dampness at the edges of his lashes. 

“All right, here is what I know...nothing. I don't know where we are, how any of us got here and I'm not sure how we are going to get out. I don't know where the monsters come from either. All I do know is that this place, where we are right now, inside this house, the monsters don't enter. The buildings around here are a mix of time periods, people show up without rhyme or reason and sometimes they die. Most of the time they simply disappear while a few have stayed, but...this place changes you. I found your father and sister and I brought them here to protect them. There are a handful of people scattered throughout this town, all of them dangerous. That's about the extent of what I know.” 

Marianne blinked, not sure what to make of this information, but put her hand out trying to calm him. “Okay, okay...so, are you saying we're trapped?” 

Bog shrugged. “As far as I know? Yes.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “There is always a way out of a trap. I didn't get here to find my family only to give up going home.” 

Bog walked back over to his cot folding his long form back down. “Well, if there is a way home, I've never found it.” 

Marianne smiled. “You didn't have me.” 

Bog looked up at her, quirking a brow, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Is that so?” 

Marianne smirked. 

* 

A few hours later, Bog, with the help of Dagda and Sunny, had headed up the stairs into the belly of the house above to find some bedding to bring down to the basement, setting up the extra bedding by yanking down a mattress for Sunny and Dawn to share then giving Dawn's cot to Marianne. Bog found extra blankets and pillows, hauling them all down the stairs despite his clear need for rest and the stiffness with which he moved, his injuries still hurting him. 

Everyone was settling down for the night when Marianne glanced over to where Bog was sitting on the side of his cot, running a weary hand through his thick hair. She studied him for a heartbeat before she decided to talk to him. 

Marianne headed over, walking by her sister and Sunny who had pulled the blankets over their heads. Marianne could hear them whispering to each other. 

Bog had headed up the stairs, resetting his trap just before everyone started to settle down for the night. Marianne could tell he was more than simply tired. The man was clearly worn, and not just from today. She could only guess what he had been through and for how long, living here, alone. Marianne could only imagine what it was like for him being trapped in this...hell. But she was thankful for what he had done to save her family. She was sure, if not for him, they wouldn't have survived. The man was a real hero. Marianne stepped closer and pulled one of the chairs out from the table, spun it around before she straddled the chair and draped her arms over the back watching Bog. Bog quirked a brow at her. 

“Need something?” he asked with a sardonic quirk to his lips. 

“I just want to talk.” Marianne smiled. 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck, then twisted his head, his neck making a loud crack. “What do you want to talk about princess?” 

Marianne frowned. “I'm not a princess.” 

Bog smiled. “Just teasing you.” 

Marianne made a slightly sour face before she continued. “I wanted to thank you. Thank you for saving my family.” 

Bog ducked his head down looking shyly at his feet. “They would have done the same for me.” 

Marianne smiled. “Yeah, but that doesn't change what you did for them. I don't know how to thank you.” 

Bog smiled softly. “No need.” 

They were both a little awkwardly quiet when Marianne asked. “So, ah, why were you here for a job in 1976?” 

Bog grinned and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from under the bed. “You care if I...” 

Marianne shook her head with a sigh. “Guess second hand smoke isn't as big a worry; it doesn't really matter as much with monsters running around.” 

Bog pulled out a lighter from his back pocket. Marianne watched him while he tapped a cigarette out, it looked as though he had a fresh unused package of cigarettes. He pulled the one out with his teeth then held it between his lips as he flicked on the lighter. 

“Bad habit I picked up in the military.” Bog muttered taking a pull on the cigarette and blowing out a long stream of smoke. “I almost had it kicked when I got back, then this...” He pulled the cigarette out and motioned around him. 

Marianne just listened as he continued. “I was here to help rebuild this ghost town. Guy who bought the town had the idea of turning it into a tourist trap. People could come visit a real ghost town.” Bog shrugged. “Not that I really cared. It was hard finding work when I got back and this guy who owned it all, he paid well. I needed the money. Not a lot of places wanted to hire a vet. Anyway...guess I'm back to fighting a war.” Bog took another pull on the cigarette that haunted expression returned to his expression as he said softly. “Not everyone wanted us to come back from that war.” 

Marianne reached out, her fingertips brushing his knee. Bog looked up at her startled. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. 

Bog frowned. “For what?” 

“Just...for everything.” Marianne smiled at him. 

blushed looking uncomfortable. 

“Ah...well...you're welcome,” he said softly a hint of a smile on his face, his cheeks turning slightly red. Bog took a pull, blowing out a stream of smoke then sighed. “You—you and your friend should get some rest. We're safe down here.” 

“Why?” Marianne asked and Bog shrugged. “Look, I know you've barely scratched the surface of your questions and I promise to try to answer what I can, but we all need rest. I especially need rest.” 

Marianne nodded. “You're right. I just wanted to tell you thank you Bog.” 

Marianne stood up and stepped closer to him. Bog looked up at her. Marianne was struck breathless for a moment looking down at his sharp-featured haunted face. His nose was long and sharp as was his chin. He wasn't exactly “handsome,” but there was something appealing about his features, nice lips, an extra nice smile when he chose to let it out, but his eyes. His eyes pulled her toward him, there was a great deal of pain in those blue eyes. By the expression on his face he wasn't aware at all of his attractions. Marianne bent down and kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you Bog,” she whispered. 

Bog swallowed. He couldn't remember ever seeing a woman like Marianne...ever. She reminded him of an angel...he had thought that before, when he saw her standing there holding that gun, but this close to her, looking into a face that only could have been the image of an angel with large, warm passionate brown eyes, her perfectly shaped lips...Bog had only just met her, but something deep inside stirred, something he thought long ago dead, killed by the war, by civilian life, and by this place...but Marianne seemed to be touching on that part of him, finding that Bog King still had a pulse.


	3. Tears of the Past

Bog stood on the edge of the mine field looking out outward with a grim expression on his face. There was a grassy field before him, a simple field. He could tell that at one time it had been a farmer's field, a place for growing food, for bringing life, but now all that was out there was death. He wore his uniform, the shirt open and wearing a sleeveless undershirt underneath, stained along the chest with sweat. His sleeves were rolled up against the heat, sweat pouring down the sides of his face from under his M1 helmet, his face covered in grime and God only knew what else. He felt as if his very soul was covered in sweat, grime and blood...never going to forget the blood, he thought. Bog ran his fingers over his chin, feeling the stubble. He hadn't shaved in days. He wiped his fingers up along his chest, smearing the sweat and grime across his cheek. 

Definitely not up to U. S. Army standards at the moment. 

That was when he heard a voice next to him, a voice he knew well. “You know it's your fault.” 

Startled, Bog turned to see his friend, George Theodore Ramirez, or Thang as everyone called him. Thang was a short man with large brown eyes, a big smile and a gentle soul. Thang was never meant for war, never meant for any of this. 

He had been Bog's sidekick from the moment they met in basic training. Two men who were polar opposites, but somehow had become fast friends. Bog stood up for Thang, protected him when some jerk tried to beat him up during basic. Got them both put on latrine cleaning detail more than once, but they had just laughed about it and done what needed to be done. Bog had helped Thang get through basic. When they had ended up stationed together in the same unit, both men had been delighted. They became each others watcher, keeping an eye on each others back, making sure they were both going to survive this war. They were going to go home together, maybe start a carpentry business, best friends to the end. 

Except the end had come far sooner for Thang than either of them expected. Thang had died just days before the end...twenty-four hours before they would have gone home. He had walked out into that field that Bog was staring at now, after Bog, tired, weary, had said he was sure it was fine, there were no mines out there; but he had been too exhausted to be as careful as he should have been...Bog had killed his friend as surely as if he had pulled the trigger. 

Bog turned from Thang to look back out on the field, remembering in vivid detail Thang's death. It wasn't instant. Oh no, thought Bog, it couldn't have been instant...Thang stepped on a mine and it had blow up beneath him, not killing him right away. The landmine had ripped off his legs, tore through his torso...yet Thang had lingered for a couple of hours, begging for Bog's help. 

Bog had rushed out to his friend, not thinking of his own safety. He had held Thang in his arms. The medics had come, but there had been nothing they could do. With that much damage, it wouldn't have mattered if he was in the most advanced hospital currently available. Bog held Thang until the light went out of his eyes. Bog still remembered 

Thang's last words. “Promise me you'll get home Bog, promise me.” 

Thang's ghost glared at him, forcing Bog to look at him again. “It's all your fault Bog.” 

Then, as Bog stared down at his friend, the flesh began to fall from Thang's face, revealing the skull underneath, blood and juices oozed down the smaller man's face. He reached for Bog. Bog backed away, his eyes wide in horror. As Thang reached for him, the flesh falling from his fingers left bloody skeletal hands that inched closer to the petrified Bog. 

Bog screamed. 

* 

Marianne woke with a start to the sound of crying. She looked around the darkened cellar. She could see her sister and Sunny curled together sleeping soundly in each others arms. She could see her father laying on his cot; he too seemed to be sleeping all right. She was a little surprised any of them were sleeping at all, but it was Bog that drew her attention. 

The sobbing was coming from his cot. Marianne stood up quietly and made her way over to him. There was a little light from a florescent camp lamp that Bog had set on the stairs. 

Bog was curled into a fetal position, his knees up, and his hands over his head. She could hear him crying and muttering in his sleep. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...Thang forgive me...please...sorry.” 

Marianne frowned in worry. It was clear he was in a great deal of pain. Carefully Marianne sat down on the side of his cot, and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. He awake, his only reaction was to flinch. He curled in tighter. Marianne moved her hand to his hair and gently began to stroke her fingers through the thick dark locks around his ear, the only place she could easily touch as his hands were tight on his head as if he were trying to hold himself together. 

“Shh...it's all right,” she whispered. 

Bog choked on a sob, hissing, his eyes tightly closed. “I killed him. I killed my best friend.” 

Marianne could see the tears on his cheeks glistening in the dim light. She wasn't sure what to do so she continued to stroke his hair, shifting her position closer to his head. “Bog? It's all right. You're safe.” 

That was when Bog's eyes flew open, but Marianne could instantly see he wasn't really there in the room; he was clearly somewhere else, somewhere...horrible. 

“He died. I didn't save him. I broke my promise.” He started to shake all over. 

Marianne gently, yet forcefully, pushed Bog's legs down. It wasn't easy, but she was firm until finally he eased his legs down. Next, she shifted closer to his head and with effort, eased his hands down from clutching his head. She could see he had been digging his nails into his scalp, but after a good solid minute she eased his hands down and carefully, gently lifted his head onto her lap. It was difficult since he didn't move for her, didn't cooperate in his sleeping state, but finally, sitting with one leg bent on his cot and the other on the floor, she had his head on her lap, his body curled around behind her. She stroked his hair, his face pressed against her belly. 

She wasn't sure what to do, but she elected to hum, then sing in a soft whisper. It was a song she remembered her mother singing all the time. Marianne smiled as the words came to her, remembering her mother washing dishes and singing this song. 

* 

“After long enough of being alone 

Everyone must face their share of loneliness 

In my own time, nobody knew 

The pain I was goin' through 

And waitin' was all my heart could do 

Hope was all I had until you came 

Maybe you can't see how much you mean to me 

You were the dawn breaking the night 

The promise of mornin' light 

Filling the world surroundin' me 

When I hold you 

Baby, baby, feels like maybe 

Things will be all right 

Baby, baby, your love's made me 

Free as a song, singin' forever...” 

* 

Marianne sang softly while she stroked Bog's hair. She felt the shift in him when he came fully awake, but he didn't move and she said nothing; she just continued to stroke his hair and hum. He moved just a little and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her stomach and then she felt the sobs.. Marianne leaned over him wrapping herself around him. She had no idea what he had been dreaming about, but it was clear the man was in a lot of pain. She held on to Bog letting him cry himself out, his body curled around her. He pulled his legs up again and held onto her like a lifeline. Marianne held him in return giving him all the comfort she could. She could only imagine what he had seen...the war he fought in...whatever he had been enduring here and for so long. She couldn't imagine what sort of pain that he felt. 

After a few minutes she felt him relax little by little. He eased back away from her and lay back on his cot. Marianne reached over and stroked his face. “Are you all right?” 

He rubbed the back of his hand under his nose with a sniff. “I'm sorry.” 

Marianne frowned. “Don't be.” 

Bog looked away from her. “I...I have nightmares. Had them before I ever ended up here...” His voice dropped to a low murmur. 

“Would you like me to stay with you?” Marianne asked gently. She realized she wasn't asking just to be nice, she really wanted to help this man, wanted to be there for him. 

She didn't know why she thought this from their brief interactions, but she felt he deserved to be helped and she wanted to do it. 

Bog turned back to look at her with his brow furrowed. In the dim light she could see how pale he was, that he was sweaty, dark circles under his eyes which made her wonder how long he hadn't been sleeping well. 

Bog frowned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “What?” 

“Scoot over.” Marianne started to lay down. Bog hurriedly scooted over to provide room for her to lay down beside him. Marianne easily fit on the cot, though they were more than cozy, their bodies right up against one another. Marianne shifted her body up more, then gently, yet firmly, directed and guided Bog's head to her chest. Bog stiffened at first, but just as quickly relaxed, letting her lead him, though he whispered in confusion as he nestled his head against her chest, hearing the steady beat of her heart. “What are you doing?” 

“I'm holding you so you can sleep. Sometimes with nightmares the comfort of another person helps drive them off. I'm hoping I can help you,” she said softly. 

“But why?” Bog asked feeling awkward, his head between her small breasts, her arm around him, delicate fingers in his hair. 

“Because it's clear you need someone, Bog. It's the least I can do for saving my father and sister. Now hush...close your eyes. When you'er ready, maybe we can talk about your dreams. That helps too...but not until you're ready. For now, just relax.” 

Bog hesitantly put his arm around her. “Are you comfortable?” 

Marianne smiled, her fingers playing gently through his hair. “Yes, yes I am. Now close your eyes.” 

Bog smiled a little, and did as she instructed. He tightened his hold on her. Marianne frowned, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She could feel the desperation in him, the tightly coiled suppression of his pain...the man was filled with so much anguish that nearly screamed out from the tension in his body. She laid back on the pillow and stroked her fingers through his thick hair again, finding her own comfort in the weight of his body against hers. He smelled surprisingly good despite everything. She closed her eyes, his weight on her chest, the feel of his arm tight around her and the warmth of his breath, comforted her which she didn't realize she needed too. 

They were both quiet, Bog simply holding her, Marianne stroking his hair when Bog spoke, his voice just barely a whisper. “I killed my friend.” 

Marianne kept her eyes closed but she asked him just as softly. “How? Why?” 

“I...I promised, we promised that we would leave the war together. He died on a landmine.” Bog's voice became tight. 

“That wasn't your fault,” Marianne whispered back. 

“It was. I...I was supposed to clear the field, but I was tired. Hadn't slept well in weeks...it was hot...I only cleared a small section, told him it was safe...I held him in my arms. That mine had blown off his arms and legs, tore up his body...his guts were spilling out...he didn't blame me then. He begged me to make it home for the both of us.” 

Marianne could feel the hot wet tears soaking through her shirt. She frowned. “Bog, it wasn't your fault. It was the war's fault...that just as easily could have been you. It was an accident.” 

“He didn't make it home because of me Marianne. I lived and he died because I wasn't careful, I wasn't...I didn't...” His voice broke. “In the dream he blames me every night for what I did to him.” 

Marianne leaned down and kissed the top of Bog's head. “Ask yourself Bog, would your friend want you doing this to yourself?” She glanced down at him though she couldn't really see his face. She felt him close his eyes. He didn't answer for several minutes. Marianne thought for a moment when he had become so still, that he had fallen asleep, but he whispered a soft tone. “No. No, I suppose he wouldn't.” 

“Then you need to forgive yourself Bog,” Marianne explained softly. 

“How?” Bog asked tightening his hold on her. 

“First, we need to get home. Then you need to live the best life you can, for him, for yourself.” Marianne whispered. “It won't be easy, but I know you can do it. Look what you've done here.” 

Bog chuckled. The sound held no humor; it was a sad chuckle, but he nodded. “All right Marianne. If I live and get home. I will do my best.” 

Marianne smiled. “Good. Now get some sleep.” She kissed the top of his head again before she laid back. Bog shifted slightly and made himself more comfortable. They laid like that, quietly giving each other comfort until she felt him relax, felt his breathing become soft in sleep. His proximity in this nightmare, his snug embrace, lulled her back to sleep as well. 

* 

Dawn woke first. At first she was in a panic; Bog was usually awake by now. She had become accustomed to waking up to the sound of him either cleaning knives, or if he had bullets and a gun, cleaning the weapon, checking the traps...something, even fixing breakfast. Despite their situation the three of them—Dawn, her father and Bog, had formed a sort of makeshift family and a sad little routine, but this morning she woke to complete silence. 

At first she didn't want to move despite her fear. Sunny was lying next to her, his arms around her making her feel safe, warm, loved. She didn't want to leave that just in case it was all only a dream, but she had to check on Bog. Her heart was hammering so hard against her chest, her fear building. What if he had gone out? What if something had happened to him? She eased herself from Sunny's embrace and gradually stood up to look around. Marianne was gone. Dawn's heart beat harder, faster. She looked down at Sunny...no, he was still there... 

Then she saw them, Marianne and Bog on Bog's cot under the stairs. They were both asleep, Bog's head resting against Marianne's chest. There was a very slight spike of jealously which Dawn quickly dismissed. Then Dawn realized she had never actually seen Bog sleep. She knew he did because his bad dreams had woken her up many times, but she had never seen the man actually sleep. She watched them and a smile crept over her lips. They looked good together, his head on her chest, Marianne's hand in his hair. She had never seen Bog so...at ease. Dawn's smile widened. Maybe...just maybe there was going to be something good that would happen from their situation...two lost souls finding one another? Maybe that was too much speculation right now, but Dawn, still smiling, eased herself out of the bed and decided to make breakfast. 

* 

Marianne stirred reluctantly. Her dream had been nice. She was standing in a field of flowers on a hillside looking down at the town below. The sun had been warm on her face and she had felt good. Then she had felt someone behind her, not a frightening presence, but one she enjoyed, one she craved. The presence walked up behind her and wrapped strong arms around her, long and wiry muscled arms. She felt the pressure of the man behind her as he rested his chin on to the top of her head. “So, what do you think, a house right here?” The man's voice was slightly accented. 

Marianne smiled. “Yes, this will be perfect.” 

She turned in the arms of the man who held her, turning to see his face when the sounds of singing broke the spell. Marianne squeezed her eyes shut as she came awake trying to recapture the dream, but it was gone. She sighed opening her eyes blearily. Everything came rushing back in: finding her family, Bog, and the monsters... 

She lay there unmoving. She could tell Bog was still asleep, his breath low and steady. The singing was coming from her sister, accompanied by the smell of toast and cooking eggs....the homey scents at odds with their situation. 

She couldn't see her sister from her position on the cot with Bog fast asleep, but she definitely heard her sister's sweet voice singing softly. 

“You are the dancing queen 

Young and sweet 

Only seventeen 

Dancing queen 

Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah 

You can dance 

You can jive 

Having the time of your life 

Ooh, see that girl 

Watch that scene 

Dig in the dancing queen...” 

* 

Marianne smiled as Dawn sang to Abba, which considering their circumstances, made her want to laugh. It was the cutest, strangest thing to be occurring next to the fact that Marianne was sleeping with a stranger's head nestled between her breasts. She smiled though; with all the bad that had happened, this was nice. She settled down enjoying the weight of Bog against her, the gentle brush of his breath. She ran her fingers idly through his hair, caressing his ear when she heard Dawn next to her. 

“You know, that's the first time I've ever seen him really sleep.” 

Marianne opened her eyes to see Dawn squatted beside the cot, gazing at her sister with a little smile. “He hasn't slept more than an hour or two a night and the dreams always wake him up.” 

“Really?” Marianne frowned looking from her sister to Bog. He murmured in his sleep and pressed his nose against her as he tightened his hold. 

Dawn nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “They seemed to be about the same few things. One is about a friend of his, the others are just about the war in general, the things he saw, things he won't talk about...” Dawn's soft eyes looked sad. “He saw terrible things Marianne before he ever ended up here.” Marianne felt her heart twist for her sister. Dawn cared deeply about Bog, she could see it in her eyes and that made Marianne care that much more for him. 

Dawn continued with a sad inflection in her voice. “ And then sometimes he cries out for his little sister.” 

Marianne swallowed. She glanced down at Bog. She knew exactly how he felt about his sister. 

Dawn said softly, “I think...I think he sees me as a replacement for her, ya know?” 

Marianne glanced from her sister to Dawn while she stroked Bog's head tenderly. 

Dawn indicated Bog with a slight inclination of her head. “You should do this for him every time you can, Mari. He needs sleep. He isn't doing well. He'll lie and say he's fine, but he isn't. I don't know how long this has been going on with him, but he's slowing down. I bet that was why he got hurt yesterday. He hasn't been able to sleep, get his energy back... rejuvenate. I don't know how much longer he can go on before...” Tears pricked the corner of Dawn's eyes. She wiped them away and whispered low as if she were afraid by saying the words out loud she would cause them to come true. “Before something happens to him Mari, before he dies.” 

Marianne gazed from her sister to Bog as her fingers traced gently across his brow. “I don't mind helping him. I don't mind at all. I owe him so much. For you and dad...” 

Dawn nodded and stood, leaning over to kiss her sister on the forehead, then doing the same for Bog. “I'll make some coffee. Bog found us some instant coffee. It's not the greatest, but it's better than nothing. “I'll make you a cup.” 

“Thanks Dawn.” 

* 

Bog slept, unmoving for another hour before his eyes fluttered open. He didn't move at first, confused for a few seconds. He could hear the others were awake, the sounds of conversation, Dawn's soft laughter and the Sunny saying something, but the sound that his senses was the sound of Marianne's heartbeat. Bog eased his arm from around her and slowly sat up. 

Marianne was smiling at him. “Sleep all right?” 

Bog nodded with a reddening in his cheeks, nose, and forehead. “Ah...yes. Thank you.” 

Marianne smiled then made a face. “Ah...excuse me.” 

She hurried got to her feet walking swiftly to the back of the cellar where there was a “bathroom.” 

A hint of a grin tugged at one corner of Bog's lips as Dawn smiled and inquired. “Want some coffee?” 

Bog nodded with a mumbled. “Thanks.” 

* 

Soon they were all sitting around the table down here talking. Bog was nursing a cup of coffee while Dawn took everyone's dishes. She stacked them by the little sink to be cleaned later. Her father had filled his pipe. He held a match to it to light up the tobacco. Marianne pressed her lips together in a small smile. Her Dad had been working on quitting, but she supposed at this point, right now at least, that didn't really matter, so she said nothing. 

Bog had lit a cigarette and held it between his fingers while he stared into his coffee cup. He had been telling her about his attempts to leave. 

Marianne frowned. “So you've tried to leave, but...nothing? You can't get beyond the town?” 

Bog affirmed her question with a nod. “I've tried, but no luck. The edges of the town are where the fog is the thickest. The further you walk, the thicker the fog becomes until finally, you find yourself back where you started.” 

He took a deep pull on his cigarette, before he blew the smoke out slowly. “I had heard there were tunnels underneath of the town when I came here to work. Found a few entrances, but there was always something down there blocking me, so I have no idea how far they go or even if they lead out of the town.” 

Bog sipped his coffee, he swallowed slowly. “The town's pretty big, but still, I think I can safely say I've been pretty much everywhere except for a few buildings that are pretty heavily overrun with...things. Ran into a few people here and there, scattered about. There's a section of town down by one of the bigger churches where a few of the people that are holed up there, that didn't vanish—lived. If you call what they're doing living in that old church. Bunch of nutjobs. I wouldn't recommend going down there if we can avoid it. They've all gone crazy.” 

Marianne frowned with a lift of her brow. “Crazy?” 

Bog nodded firmly. “Yeah...” He held his cigarette to his lips, he breathed in the smoke before he let it out. “They're dangerous. I would just...we should avoid them.” 

Marianne frowned as she looked at Bog. It was clear he had more to say on the topic, but was reluctant. She would pressure him to tell her later, but for now they needed a plan, something instead of just sitting here in this cellar. 

“So what do we do? Nothing?” Marianne asked in frustration. 

Bog shook his head. “No, I didn't say that. I think...I was in the library once, just looking for something to read when I found this book, completely by accident.” Bog's voice took on a faraway feel while he spoke. “It was just lying there on one of the tables. I was sure it hadn't been there when I arrived, but I had pulled a few books off the shelf, turned around, and there is was, plain looking thing, but it...” He paused, searching for the correct word. “It drew me.” 

Bog pull deeply on his cigarette before he blew out the smoke then dropped the bud into the remains of his coffee before he continued. 

“That book, it was like a journal, full of maps of the town, the buildings, but it might show also show those tunnels I mentioned. I can't be sure, only got to flip through it, but I thought I saw a map, and that book had other information...odd book...” 

Bog looked at each of them. “The book, it was about the town...about...this...” Bog made a motion with his fingers. “There were sketches in it, of monsters, creatures I had seen since I've been stuck here, but other things I haven't. There were notes in it, handwritten notes.” 

Bog pulled his pack of cigarettes out. Only Marianne noticed the slight tremble to his hands when he lit the cigarette and took a deep pull on it. He slowly exhaled the smoke before he continued. “I tried to leave with it, but I couldn't—something stopped me.” 

Marianne leaned closer. “This book, it talked about the monsters? The fog?” 

Bog nodded. “I didn't get to read much in it, mostly just flipped through it, but yeah...there was reference to this...to the fog...something about the monsters...I would suggest we get that book. I might actually be able to get it out of there this time with some help.” 

Marianne paled slightly. “I hate to ask, but why couldn't you get it out before exactly?” 

Bog stared at her for a long moment before he hissed. “It...it was...” Bog shuddered and took another pull on the cigarette. “It was big and dangerous. Before we go we need to make a stop at the local gun shop, get Marianne some more ammo, see if there is anything I can use.” He nodded to himself and added, “And maybe the sports store, couple of aluminum bats will come in handy. But, like with everything here, it won't be a cake walk. There are several things—creatures--that hang out there, so it won't be easy. Together, though, I think we can handle it. We need to be armed, and heavily, before we hit the library.” 

Marianne nodded. 

Sunny asked, his voice subdued. “When do we go?” 

Bog turned to look at him and shook his head. “No. You're staying here.” 

“What? But...” Sunny started to protest, but Bog stood up. “You need to stay here, protect Dawn and Dagda. I had to leave them alone before, but now you're here and I would feel better knowing someone is watching out for them. Marianne and I can handle this.” 

Marianne blinked in surprise, then smiled. This was going to be dangerous...but Bog's unflinching trust in her abilities to fight alongside him made her feel powerful, as if she could take on anything this wretched place had to offer and win. No one, except her family, had ever simply just trusted and believed in her; Bog had only just met her, but he was trusting her to protect him, to have his back in a deadly fight. That filled her with confidence, determination, and...her heart did a skip when she looked at Bog who gave her an encouraging smile. 

She stood up and returned his smile. 

“So, when do we start?”


	4. Carpe Diem

Bog and Marianne stepped out onto the front porch of the house after having said their good-byes inside. The light that filtered down on them was a soft grey; and what looked like snow was falling slowly from the sky around them. The large, fat flakes drifted lazily down from the sky, where they landed, they seemed to fade into the ground. Marianne looked around with her eyes wide. She held her hand out, letting the flakes fall gently against her palm. She frowned in confusion when she didn't feel anything against her palm until she reached down with a finger and touched them, rubbing the flake against her skin, frowning as it smeared black across her flesh. 

Bog stood beside her, smoking his cigarette as he looked up, then he glanced over at her, watching her reaction. 

Bog spoke softly. “It's ash. I have no idea why, but there's ashfall here, all the time. It's as if the whole world is burning.” His voice dropped lower, a frown creasing his brow as he took another deep drag on his cigarette. He tossed the remains of his cigarette down onto the porch and rubbed it out with the toe of his boot before he took a deep breath a d looked out on the town. 

At the moment, it was eerily silent. 

Bog hooked his thumbs through the straps of the backpack he wore. He had changed shirts, choosing a plain grey t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “All right, we have three stops: the sports store, the gun shop, and the library. That's a lot of ground to cover,” Bog told her quietly as he adjusted his backpack on his back. They both had similar packs since Bog had told her that they wouldn't be back here tonight. In fact, he wasn't sure when they would be back. (Dawn had burst into tears and buried her face against Sunny's chest when he had told them, but both Dagda and Sunny had nodded understanding without Bog saying it that there was an “if” in that statement too.) They were each armed with a knife, having decided to leave the gun with Dawn. They might not make it back for a couple of nights, which would force them to camp in the town. The three shops were clear across town from one another. It seemed to Bog as if the forces-that-be had decided to make gathering what they needed as difficult as possible. 

He glanced down at the petite woman beside him. Marianne looked up at him. His eyes were just so blue, the only color in the entire world. He gave her a small smile. “If you want to stay behind, now would be the time to do it.” 

Marianne shook her head while firmly saying, “Nope.” 

Bog laughed with genuine pleasure. “I like you Marianne, you're tough and cute.” 

Marianne blushed. “Cute?” 

He smiled and she would have sworn that he blushed too. “Yeah, well...let's get going, we're heading to the sports store first. It's the easiest to get to—which isn't saying much—but we can grab some weapons to help us with getting the guns we want from the gun shop. I would rather be armed with both than only one or the other.” 

Marianne nodded and followed Bog as he took off down the steps. “I like the idea of having a stabbing weapon, a bludgeoning weapon and something with a high powered projectile when possible.” He chuckled. 

As the two of them hit the street, they turned left, Bog motioned with his head.”The sports store is perhaps five miles in that direction. That's a lot of space between here and there. Should take us an hour and a half, optimally, if we didn't have to dodge the citizens. Otherwise, it might take a few hours.” 

Marianne nodded and they started walking. 

The strange silence of the world around them continued, though the further they moved away from the house, the more and more sounds began to slowly make themselves heard. The noises were never close, always something from a distance...a yip like a dog or a strange sound that Marianne couldn't discern as animal, human or other; and the ash continued to fall quietly around them. Mostly though, silence still surrounded them like a bubble; the few sounds she heard were so far away, muffled as if they existed outside of the small space that she and Bog occupied. 

Marianne glanced toward Bog then asked softly. “Tell me about your sister?” 

Bog frowned, looking slightly startled. He didn't say anything for a long time, long enough that Marianne worried that she had done something wrong by asking. When Bog started to speak there was a slight catch in his voice. 

“She was a lot like your sister, a sweet beam of sunshine.” He smiled softly. “She was a tiny little thing, short, thin, like a pixie. Her name was Coira. She had long reddish brown hair like our Mam, that reached to her hips. Last picture I had of her was Coira sitting in a field of flowers back behind my Mam's backyard, a ring of daisies in her hair wearing these rust colored bell-bottoms and a t-shirt I had sent her when I first landed back in the states, a baby blue shirt with this rainbow on it.” Bog swallowed, but he smiled. 

“She liked rainbows. I saw it in a gift shop...stupidly over-priced, but...it made me think of her.” Bog's voice had dropped. 

Marianne could feel the emotions radiating from Bog, who struggled to hold back his tears. He reached up and angrily wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands before he continued. “She liked rainbows,” he repeated and sniffed. “Anyway, that was the last picture I had of her. You would have liked her. Lots of spirit with a large heart.” His voice was heavy with sorrow. 

“You have her picture with you?” Marianne asked softly. 

Bog looked sideways at her. She could see it in his eyes, he was surprised that she knew he carried it with him and she could also tell it was a little bit of a struggle for him. He stopped, turned to face her, and pulled out a leather wallet so old that the brown material was worn smooth and white in places. He opened the wallet and pulled out a wrinkled, yellowing picture. Marianne gingerly took the picture and gazed down at the image of a lovely young woman with a somewhat narrow face, similar to Bog's, but there was a softness to the edges of her features that made her pretty, and even though the picture was yellowed, Marianne could see the blue of her eyes, just like her brother's. It was odd to see such a vintage photograph, she thought, again bringing home to her just how old Bog was in reality, and how long he had been trapped in this hell. 

Marianne smiled and handed him back the photo. “She's pretty.” 

Bog stared at the photograph, then murmured softly. “Yeah. She wanted to be a singer, like Cher or Linda Ronstadt. She had a great voice.” He grinned lopsidedly. “You should have heard her. One of the tapes she sent me is of her singing...” He swallowed again. Marianne could see a tear glistening at the edge of his eye, falling suddenly while he gazed at the picture. “I promised her I would walk her down the aisle one day. That is if I let the guy live.” He chuckled softly with a crooked grin. 

Marianne smiled sadly at him. “I'm sorry about your sister.” 

Bog shrugged. “I just hope she had a full life, found a good man, got married, had all those kids she was always telling me she was going to have...maybe even got that singing career she wanted...” He took a deep breath through his nose, sniffed hard, and screwed his eyes closed for a moment before standing up straighter and abruptly changed the subject. “Keep your eyes open and your ears clear. Things lurk everywhere.” 

Marianne nodded and the two of them kept walking. Marianne hooked her thumbs through the straps of her backpack while she walked. They were both quiet, listening and looking out for danger while they walked side by side along the ash dusted streets. 

Bog glanced sideways at her and mumbled. “Thank you again by the way.” 

Marianne smiled. “For what?” 

He shrugged dropping his gaze. “Last night.” 

Marianne smiled softly. “It wasn't a difficult thing to do.” 

Bog shrugged again, but murmured in a barely audible tone. “I'm a stranger...you didn't need to...It was...well you didn't have to help, but I appreciate it.” He rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs while they walked. Marianne felt a twist in her chest. It was...humbling...to see this man who had lived through so many horrible things...was still living through them...be shy and thankful for the simple gesture of being held. Marianne's eyes suddenly stung. 

“You're welcome Bog,” she offered softly. 

He smiled and nodded. 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip while they continued to walk. The street they were on was lined with all sorts of old stores, looking like a street from the 1950's with a furniture store, a wedding shop and what might have been a diner on the corner. The buildings though looked to date from the end of the 19th century, some even had the remains of painted ads on their sides, slowly peeling off the brick. The ash continued to fall, but Marianne noticed that it was becoming slightly thicker. She frowned looking around as she asked softly. “Do you have bad dreams every night?” 

Bog shrugged. “To varying degrees, but...but yeah I do.” 

“Oh Bog that's terrible.” Marianne reached out and touched his arm. 

He surprised her when he pulled his arm away only to take her hand and hold it. His hand was warm, callused, and gentle. His long fingers wrapped around her hand yet he held her hand loosely, letting her know without words that she could pull her hand away at any time. Instead she tightened her grip on his hand before relaxing; she shifted her hand only enough to lace her fingers with his own in a loose yet comforting embrace. 

Bog spoke softly not looking at her, his blue eyes darting around to keep a careful watch on the buildings. “They started during the war, then continued even after I came home. Being here has only made the nightmares worse.” 

“I'm sorry Bog,” she said softly. She knew the statement was weak, but didn't know what else to say. She had no way of understanding what he was going through, had been through, what he had seen. It felt so inadequate to simply say she was sorry, to offer nothing more than sympathy and her hand, but Bog smiled and squeezed her hand. “Thank you. I mean...not just for saying that, but for...you know...” 

She smiled. “I don't mind doing it every night if it helps.” 

Bog stopped, turned to stare at her when they both heard the low sound of a growl. It didn't sound like any animal Marianne had ever heard; it was...wet sounding...a deep gurgle more than a growl, like gas coming up from the bottom of a swamp to burst in multiple bubbles on the thick surface of the water. 

Marianne voice was low. “What was that?” 

Bog let go of her hand and pulled out his knife from where he had it hooked to his belt, though with his other hand he reached out and touched her hip. It was a gesture of comfort as well as protective and never had Marianne felt so...comforted by such a simple touch. She pulled her own knife from where she had it hooked to the band of her jeans. They were each armed with a knife, one of several that Bog had hoarded throughout the house. The one he had given her was a 10 ½ inch long narrow edged blade that he had found in the kitchen of a house he had explored ages ago. He had never used the blade himself, but he had brought it back with him...almost as if he had been holding it for her. Bog was armed with a shorter blade, a serrated edge combat knife from his time in Vietnam. 

They automatically put their backs together, Bog's free hand lightly touched on her hip which prompted Marianne to do the same, reaching beside her to lay her hand against his hip, their hands touching, his long fingers laying over hers protectively. 

They both searched for the source of the noise, looking for any movement from the many darkened shop windows and the streets that led back into the bowels of the town, but nothing came rushing out to attack them. When the noise didn't continue and nothing appeared after a few tense moments, Bog said softly. “Let's get going.” 

Marianne nodded, and after another minute of careful observation, they slowly they stepped away from each other. Bog smiled at her, a soft smile of reassurance and, despite everything, his smile did a great deal to set her at ease. For a moment Marianne wondered if this was all some strange twisted nightmare she was having and that at some point she would wake up. She looked up at Bog. He continued to smile, then reached out and lightly laid his fingertips against her cheek. “You all right?” 

Marianne swallowed. His fingers were warm, she could feel the slightly roughness of his skin... 

“Yeah...yes, I mean yes, everything all right...considering.” She laughed softly with a gesture at their surroundings. 

Bog snorted. “Yeah, considering. Come on, let's keep moving.” 

Marianne nodded in agreement. 

They started to walk again, side by side still. Bog reached out for her hand again and Marianne took it, feeling the warmth that raced up her arm and seemed to spread through her body, and she noticed a strange sense of...rightness about the feel of his hand in hers... 

* 

They arrived at the sports store without incident, which surprised both of them, though it made Bog uneasy. Nothing in this place was ever easy... 

They both stopped outside of the shop, still holding hands, and looked up at the sign over the top of the store. Marianne wasn't sure what she was expecting, but a modern sport store was not it. The giant plastic sign read: “SportsDirect.com: For all your sporting needs.” 

Marianne frowned, tilting her head. “This is from my time.” 

Bog, turned to look at her. “It is?” 

Marianne nodded and pointed. “The 'dot com' means they have a website.” 

“Website?” Bog asked in confusion. 

“It means they have a site on the internet where you can go and...” She glanced over at Bog and realized that he had no idea what she was talking about. He was looking at her, his expression a combination of complete cluelessness and the look of someone knowing that you are speaking a language they should understand but can't... 

She shook her head. “Never mind...anyway...yeah, this is from my period.” 

Bog nodded. “I thought it might be. I've only been in here a time or two, but the styles of things...the shoes...the clothing...” He shook his head with a snort. “It's strange.” 

Marianne chuckled, which earned her a funny look from Bog. The way he raised one pointed brow, the quirk of his lips, the humor in his eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to lean over and kiss him. His sharp featured face seemed so sweetly confused that it was endearing. For a moment they both shared a look, staring at each other as they still held hands. Marianne leaned toward him, reaching out to take his other hand in hers, her mouth slightly open. Her eye slid close as she rose up on the toes of her feet. Bog went very still, holding his breath and staring down at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was so pretty, he thought, with her short hair and big brown eyes...her mouth...those perfect lips..her strength, her courage....he admired her. The urge to kiss her was strong. Hell, it felt as if a fucking magnet was pulling him toward her, which caused him to tighten his grip on her hands. 

He wanted to kiss her, he really, really wanted to kiss Marianne. It had been...God only knew how long since he had kissed a girl...many years now. He hadn't had a girlfriend when he left for Vietnam. Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn't kissed a girl since prom and that hadn't been a real kiss, just two teenagers fumbling about. 

Bog was embarrassed to admit it—even if it was only to himself—but he had never really kissed anyone, ever...and he was still a fucking virgin on top of it all...and at his age. When he had joined the military, some friends had all gone out to pick up some girls...one-night-stands before heading off to basic. But Bog just hadn't been able to do it. He just wasn't a one-night-stand sort of guy. Then once he was stationed in Vietnam, he hadn't felt right going out with the guys and hitting the brothels. He just wasn't made that way... But right now, all those old feelings of desire and need came rushing back, all of them focused on this beautiful young woman. He wanted to kiss her, and so much so that Bog actually leaned toward her. For a moment he thought she leaned toward him, but then his senses came rushing back in...she wouldn't want to kiss you Bog...it's just the situation...you both need each other to survive...her world, her time. You don't fit in anywhere...never did...stop before you make everything awkward. 

When Bog abruptly leaned away from her, letting go of her hands, Marianne frowned in confusion, not sure what had just happened, because she was more than ready to kiss him. 

She opened her mouth. “Bog?” 

He frowned looking down at her. “Sorry.” 

He took a deep breath and pulled his knife, glancing over his shoulder at her when he stepped up to the door of the sports store, his hand on the handle of the door. “Stay close.” 

Still perplexed and a little annoyed, Marianne pulled her own blade just as Bog pushed the door open. 

* 

The inside of the sport store was quiet and dark. Light filtered in through the glass doors, providing a little bit of illumination that showed tiny motes of dust in the air and nothing else moving. The light faded into complete darkness a short distance into the store; anything could be waiting for them in that inky stillness. Marianne frowned, her eyes wandering the store taking in some of the details revealed by the dim lighting. One was that the dominant color scheme of the sport store was red white and blue, with red walls, a blue ceiling and white floor. On the main floor of the store were round clothing racks which were scattered around and holding t-shirts, shorts, runners' pants, an array of sports fashions, anything and everything a sports fanatic or player would be looking for was available on the round racks. Along the left wall where yoga outfits and swimwear on display, as well as swimming and diving gear. The wall on the right was lined with a wide array of sports shoes, from tennis shoes to golf shoes, to football cleats—whatever you were looking for, this place seemed to have it. 

As Bog and Marianne stepped inside, the door shut behind them with a slow creak that was followed by the cheery jingle of an electric door chime letting the store clerks know they had customers. Bog and Marianne stood still, listening, watching, but nothing moved. After a full minute of the two of them barely breathing, their knives out and listening, waiting with tense muscles for something to rush out at them, Bog finally started to move again. He moved slowly, careful not to startle Marianne, for which she was grateful. 

He took a slow breath before he spoke, motioning with the hand that held the knife. “There are baseball bats, tennis racquets and golf clubs in the back over in that direction. I'm after one of the wooden bats, but you grab whatever feels good to you. The aluminum bats allow swifter movement because they are lighter, but the wooden bats have more of a punch and last longer, in my personal opinion..” Bog started to walk toward the back of the shop. While he spoke slid his knife back into the leather hoop on his belt. Marianne smiled, slipping her knife back into place as well to free up her hands. “I'm taking that is from experience?” 

Bog snorted. “Aye, I mean yeah...when I first hit this place, I took an aluminum bat and while I could swing faster and stronger, the bat didn't hold up.” Bog stopped and lifted his shirt, she could see a hint of his hip where the jeans rode low in an enticing way. She almost had to literally stop herself from staring at the man's hip bone...following the line of it to his groin...Marianne forced her eyes back to where Bog pointed against his side. He held the shirt up to just above his ribs where Marianne could see a nasty scar...it still had the shiny redness of a relatively new scar. From the look of it the wound had been deep. Marianne winced in sympathy for the pain he must have suffered. 

Bog muttered glancing down at the scar. “Got that when my bat broke. The damn thing bent right in half.” He dropped his shirt. “I've had better luck with the wooden bats. The aluminum one, when it broke, it more just sort of caved in.” Bog demonstrated with his hands, miming something bending. “The wooden one held up for a long time, when it finally broke on me it still made a good spear. Pierced the thing right in the eye,” Bog said with a grin. “Gave me a chance to get away and without even getting any new scars.” He chuckled lightly. 

As they walked further back, the light became dimmed until the rest of the store was plunged into darkness. 

“Do the lights work here?” Marianne asked when Bog stopped and pulled his backpack off his back to grab the flashlight he had placed inside. 

Bog shook his head. “Nope. There is no rhyme or reason to this shit hole...” He looked up. “Sorry.” 

Marianne chuckled. “It is a shit hole.” 

Bog smiled stood up and threw his backpack back on his shoulders. “We'll get you a flashlight while we're here...” He pointed with the flashlight he held to a shadowed section of the shop. “Camping equipment is over in that direction, but we'll get the bats first.” 

Marianne turned in the direction that Bog had indicated. “It's okay...I'll just run over there and grab a flashlight maybe we can grab some sleeping bags too while...” 

She started to head in that direction when she was suddenly stopped as Bog's hand dropped onto her shoulder. She turned to look up at Bog; his eyes were serious as he whispered. “No, we stay together. All right? Always stay together.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, yeah, of course. Sorry. That was stupid of me.” 

Bog sighed in relief then gave her a small smile. “No...just...you haven't been here long enough. I'm sure it still feels like a dream doesn't it?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...it does. I keep waiting to wake up.” 

Bog nodded reaching out for her hand. She took his offered hand. “Yeah, for the first few weeks I was convinced this was some sort of weird dream. That somehow I'd been drugged or that maybe I had been injured during the war and I was actually in a coma or something. Took nearly dying a handful of times before I stopped thinking like that. Watched too many people die here...too many monsters...” His voice dropped to a whisper. 

Marianne squeezed his hand and Bog smiled at her. “Just...let's just stay together.” 

She nodded her agreement, giving his hand a squeeze. He glanced down at their joined hands and squeezed hers in return which drew a smile from Marianne. Together, with Bog shining the flashlight ahead of them, they made their way to the back of the store. Here, as Bog shone his light around, Marianne could see was a whole section dedicated to the game of baseball. Bog swung his light around until he found what he was looking for. 

“There they are,” Bog said in satisfaction with a smile and walked swiftly over to the display of bats against the wall, tugging Marianne with him. She couldn't help the light laugh that bubbled up from her when he grinned and released her hand as he said with a silly smile. “Never liked a girl enough to get her a baseball bat before.” 

Marianne snickered. “Well I never liked a boy enough to let him give me a baseball bat.” 

Bog snorted as he set the flashlight down, shrugged off his backpack and leather jacket before he reached up to grab a bat down from the display. “This bat here is a good old Louisville slugger. Why don't you try that out miss?” Bog grinned putting on a used car salesmen style voice as he handed her the bat. 

Marianne laughed. “I'll give her a test drive, thank you sir.” 

She stepped back from Bog giving the bat a few good swings. Bog motioned at her. “You want your feet shoulder width apart.” 

Marianne did as he instructed swinging the bat again. Bog snorted before he came over putting his hands on her right leg and forcing her to widen her stance. “Okay there ya go. Now you want to swing with your hips.” 

Marianne nodded and swung again. Bog frowned watching her, motioning for her to do it again. She did, but it was clear from his expression he wasn't happy with her swing. He came over bending over slightly and put his hands on her hips. “Okay when you swing, you want to twist your whole body...its not a baseball you're hitting granted, but when you swing, the more power you can put behind it...” He looked up, his hands still on her hips, to find that Marianne was staring at him. For a moment time seemed to stop as they stared at one another, her standing perfectly still, the bat over her shoulder, Bog slightly crouched, his hands on her hips. 

Bog let go of her, fumbling to his feet, snatching his hands back to his chest. 

“Uah...sorry, I...just...” 

Marianne dropped her hands from the bat, though she kept one hand loosely on the handle, the cap of the bat hit the floor with a loud thunk as with her free hand she reached up grabbing Bog around the back of the neck and pulled him toward her, covering his mouth with hers when she had him close enough. Bog stiffened, holding his hands up and away from her as if he was afraid to touch her, but when Marianne's tongue flicked over his lips, Bog melted. 

Marianne completely dropped the bat and wrapped her arms around his neck to tug him closer still. Marianne wasn't sure what she was doing. This sort of forward behavior wasn't something she had ever done. Maybe it was the weirdness of her circumstances, the strange otherworldly position she found herself in, the nearness of death...plus the fact that this man, this tender-hearted, broken man needed her, found and cared for her sister and father, trusted her to be at his side. Whatever it was, Marianne gave in to herself, pressing her body up against his and deepened the kiss by sliding her tongue past his lips. 

Bog wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, returning her kiss with passion mixed with the loneliness he had been feeling for too long. He opened his mouth to hers and their tongues rolled slowly around and against each other, their lips pressed hard together. Marianne made a little whimper of need, her legs going around his waist, her hands in his hair. She felt wild, erotic, needy...she didn't care about what was right or wrong, only the feel of his mouth against hers, the taste of his tongue on her lips. Bog's hands slid down to grasp her rear, his long fingered hands holding her. He walked forward, his foot kicking the bat and causing it to roll, where it hit against the wall, the same wall that Bog had walked Marianne to and was pressing her against with his body to continue their passionate kissing. Marianne tore away from his mouth only so she could attack his throat, needing to taste his skin on her tongue. 

Bog groaned closing his eyes, letting Marianne bite him. Her tongue glided down his throat to his collar. Marianne only briefly thought about how forward she was being, how she was attacking this poor man, but the breathy groan that escaped from Bog only made her want him more... 

That was the moment that they both heard something scratching, a small screech, scratch coming from somewhere behind Bog. 

Bog's eyes flew open. Mentally he cursed himself...he should have never...he was weak...stupid... 

Marianne felt Bog's entire body stiffen. He slowly lowered Marianne to her feet at the same time he crouched silently, reaching for the bat that had rolled against the wall, his long fingers brushing against the bat before he wrapped his hand around it without looking. Marianne eased her arms from around his neck. Bog looked down at her, his blue eyes speaking to her, telling her to stay still. Marianne glared back at him, but Bog's eyes widened in a plea. She frowned. 

Whatever it was moved closer. The rapid scratching, skittering sound indicated that it was moving quickly across the slick floor. Then whatever it was stopped, now accompanied by the sound of breathing; heavy breathing as if whatever it was had difficulty. They could both feel it behind him, as if the creature, whatever it was, oozed a miasma... 

Bog, who had grabbed the bat by its thicker end when he picked it up without looking, let the bat slide as if he were about to drop it, catching the bat at the last moment by its handle. He stared down at Marianne while she looked up at him. He smiled at her just before he dipped down and pressed his mouth to hers. Tthen in the next moment he stepped away from her to spin around, raised the bat over his shoulder, and used his entire body as he spun around, extending his arms... 

Marianne instinctively ducked downward, giving Bog the room he needed to swing. She saw the monster that had stalked up behind them and she screamed. 

This creature was worse than any of the monsters she had seen so far. It had no legs, its oversized torso narrowed down to a long whip-liked tail which was covered in bone spikes that looked to have erupted from its flesh. The skin of the thing was a milky white with a jaundiced yellowing to it, like a film of soured milk stretched thin over its bones. The head was too small for the body, making it look as if the torso was trying to swallow the neck, but the arms that it used to pull itself along the floor were heavily muscled, ending not in hands but in a spiral of five long wickedly curved looking claws. The eyes of the monster were filmy and white like those of a drowned corpse and when the thing opened its mouth to release a gurgling hiss, the lower jaw was too long, seeming to fall open. The fangs that filled its mouth were long and wicked, dripping with thick saliva followed by the sound of its wheezing, gurgling hiss. Its spoiled flesh had ripped away from its spine to reveal thick rows of hooked bone crawling down its back toward the spiked tail...all of it worse than any nightmare Marianne could have dreamt on her own. 

Marianne took in all this horror in a split second, her mind taking valuable time to process the thing in front of her, then suddenly the creature's face was knocked to the left by the hard, smart crack of a bat as Bog finished his swing. The cap of the bat caught the monster in the jaw, knocking its head to the side in a vicious sideswipe. 

Bog spared a moment to look at Marianne, his blue eyes wide with panic as he hissed at her, his jaw tense. “Run Marianne, RUN!!” 

She scrambled out from behind Bog just as the thin tail of the monster snapped from over its head like a massive scorpion to hit Bog. The bone spikes that protruded from its tail ripped through the flesh of his left shoulder and slammed him back against the wall, knocking the air from him in a painful gasp. Marianne let out a startled shriek, rolling out of the way and coming to her feet, scrambling before taking a few stumbling steps back. She saw Bog slam against the wall, pain washing over his features as his body and head bashed against the concrete wall. 

Bog groaned in pain, held in place for a moment by the spikes in the monster's tail until the spike ripped through his flesh. Bog cried out, dropping against the wall, but the monster's tail was stuck, the spikes embedded in the wall just above Bog's shoulder. Bog slid down leaving a thick smudge of blood behind him. The monster struggled, its tail temporarily stuck in the wall; it couldn't seem to get itself loose. 

Bog pushed himself away from the monster, sliding against the wall, stumbling and dropping back again and smearing even more of his blood along the red wall. His blood stood out darkly against the much lighter red, Marianne noticed. Bog scrambled to his feet and realized somehow he had kept his grip on the baseball bat. With gritted teeth against the pain and a grunt of effort, he brought the bat up over his head wrapping his other hand around the handle before he brought the wood bat down with all his strength onto the monster's head. 

The thick hard sound of the bat striking the creature was followed by its shriek, which was what finally broke Marianne out of her trance. She glanced at the monster. Black blood was flowing down its face from where Bog had struck it. She turned to look around for something to use; her knife might be good, but it would require her to get too close to the monster. That was when her eyes landed on a stand full of cricket bats. 

Bog stumbled to the side, using the wall to support himself just as the monster yanked its tail out of the wall in a spray of cement and dust. The end of its spiked tail whipped around in the air over its head for a few seconds before snapping out at him again. Bog shifted a step to the side and swung the bat. His angle was awkward, but his bat connected with the tail, knocking it to the left avoiding, just barely, taking a spike to the face. But then the tail was momentarily stuck in his bat. Bog hissed in anger holding on to the bat, trying to yank it free as the monster tugged its tail upward, pulling Bog right off his feet and shook him. Bog snarled, grinding his teeth with effort, but his grip loosened from the bat as the monster jerked him around and his strength was fading quickly while losing blood from the wound in his shoulder, now a sticky mess. 

He crashed to the ground, falling onto his damaged shoulder. Bog grunted in pain, for a moment involuntarily rolling into himself before he tried to roll out of the monsters way, its tail coming down at him like a scorpion strike again to crash into the floor hard enough that it left small craters and broke off bits of the bat as it tried to crush Bog. The tall man surged to his feet, his arms out, eyes on the monster weaving back and forth trying to avoid getting hit, when Marianne appeared in front of Bog. 

Marianne held the cricket bat over her shoulder like a baseball bat. She set her legs just like Bog had told her and swung the cricket bat with a shout. “AAHAH!! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” 

Her bat struck the monster across its open mouth, followed by the sound of splintering bone and a burst of blood. The monster's head was forced to the side by her swing, but it quickly twisted its head back around to face her. The creature's already gurgling cry turned into a mumbling liquid sound as if something were drowning, its jaw now hanging awkward and loose from its skull, the flesh torn from the impact of Marianne's attack. The creature, blood spilling from its damaged mouth, gave a wet hiss at Marianne, 

its full attention on her. Bog's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the damage she had done to the monster. A grin tugged at his lips, but then he was on his feet and grabbing Marianne by her backpack and yanking her out of the way just before one of the creature's clawed hands whipped out at her. Bog was fast enough to save her from being gutted, but not fast enough to prevent the long claws from ripping across the front of her torso, tearing away the sections of her shirt, leaving faint, but bloody gouges along her stomach and waist in their wake. 

The monster continued to make liquid sounding cries and to whip its tail at them, now with the remains of Bog's bat stuck in few of its spikes, its bloody jaw flopping uselessly and spilling black blood everywhere. The wild flaying of the monster forced the two of them to duck and weave. 

Bog exclaimed, “Fuck!” 

He dropped and weaved to the left, stumbling into a stand of golf clubs when the tail of the monster whipped over his head, just barely missing him, though the shredded remains of the bat cut along his cheek. Bog let out a hiss, stumbling into a display of balls, the impact sending them rocketing around the store, the monster and them. Marianne weaved under its swinging tail, trying to get close enough to hit it again with her bat, but now the monster was on its guard keeping her away from it with its tail whipping wildly in front of it. She swung once, but only smashed a display of baseball gloves instead of the creature. Bog reached over and grabbed Marianne's hand, hissing. “Follow me!” Marianne went with Bog without hesitation. She immediately saw which way Bog was going...the camping gear. 

He held tightly to her hand racing toward the camping section with the monster close on their heels. It stumbled into a rack and shook its head. Monsters can feel pain too, Marianne realized with vicious satisfaction. Then they were rushing down an aisle and around a corner when Bog stopped only long enough to search around before he saw what he was looking for... 

There were glass cases in this section of the store full of hunting knives, camping blades, machetes, axes...all behind glass. Amazingly, all of them cabins were untouched. Bog raced over to one, a long tall glass cabinet with machetes lined by size inside. He let go of Marianne's hand only taking the time to yank his shirt off and wrap the cloth around his fist before he punched the display case shattering the glass. 

Marianne jumped at the sound of the glass breaking and turned to see the monster was almost right on them. Bog tossed his shirt to the floor (now that his shirt was gone, not only could she see a real display of the man's many scars, but she could see the damage done by the spiked tail of the monster.) Bog grabbed two machetes, one in each hand. Marianne twisted around fully, after getting an eyeful of Bog and his many scars, just as the creature raced up to them, its mouth opened unnaturally wide, blood dripping onto the floor and its tail whipping at them. She swung her bat with all her strength, hoping her aim was true. The cricket bat caught one of monster's reaching clawed hands just before it could grab hold of her. Marianne knocked the reaching limb away, but then she brought the bat down again with an overhead swing, crushing the clawed fingers of the monster in a series of swift and brutal strikes. 

Bog dashed past her and, with a vicious downward strike, he severed the monster's limb from its body. 

The creature let out a gurgling cry of rage, lashing out at Bog with its remaining clawed limb. Bog danced back, taking a swipe with one machete, swinging the blade out and slicing cleaning through one of its fingers. Marianne swung her bat at its head which sent the creature scuttling to the side. Marianne hit it again with a roar of rage. “AAH!!” 

This time her bat didn't just hit the already broken jaw, but the impact ripped the jaw bone off its hinge, causing it to hang at an even more awkward angle. Bog swung the machete in his right hand, catching the creature in the side of the head just as it whipped back around, the jaw barely hanging on; only strings of flesh were keeping the jaw in place, but the impact of Bog's machete cut clean through the last of the flesh holding the jaw to the monster. He brought the machete in his left hand up and under catching the monster under the neck. 

The creature made a sound, but lacking its lower jaw and Bog's machete in its throat, it did little but gurgle and bubble blood. The tail of the monster came around like a whip, smashing into Marianne and knocking her off her feet hard enough that she slid nearly prone across the floor only to slam into a glass cabinet of knives with a hard crash. She threw her arms over her head to protect her face from falling glass. 

The monster lashed out at Bog, spraying him with black blood as its damaged clawed hand reached out and wrapped around his wounded shoulder. Bog snarled, yanking the right machete out of it head and hit it again, and again. He ground his teeth hacking and slashing at the monster as it held him trying to sink its claws into him. 

Marianne scrambled to her feet grabbing up her cricket bat and raced forward to bring the bat down in a vicious over handed swing which landed squarely on the monster's head. She knocked the bleeding head to the floor, which caused its grip to loosen on Bog, but then she kept hitting, unwilling and unable to stop herself, screaming as she swung, over and over and over again. 

Bog stumbled and fell, pushing himself away from the monster. The claws tore at him, but only weakly as the last of its life drained away. Marianne continued to beat its head until nothing was left but a mashed mess of unidentifiable organic material. 

Bog dropped the machetes and hurried over to her, wrapping his arms around her and gently pulling her away from it. 

“It's dead Marianne. You can stop...it's dead,” Bog murmured. He could feel her trembling in his arms, then she dropped the bat with a loud clatter. Bog turned her around and wrapped his arms around her again, kissing the top of her head. She buried her face against his chest and started to cry. Bog closed his eyes, kissed her hair and whispered gently as his fingers stroked her hair. 

“It's all right Marianne. It's all right. I got you.” 

* 

It had grown dark outside, the little bit of grey, ashen light gone. 

After a thorough search, they found no other monsters inside the store. Together they had dragged the corpse outside of the sports shop, then without a word, the two of them worked to barricade the doors both front and back. If something wanted to get in through either the front or back doors they were going to have a lot of work to do. They had set up a tent in the very back of the store in the camping section and Bog had made a small fire pit with the supplies they had available here. They had their tent, sleeping bags, blankets...it was actually a cozy set-up. Bog had also found some MRE's in the back along with some bottle water. 

He was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire while Marianne tried to gently stitch up the wound on his back with the supplies they had available. They were both mostly clean from using some of the bottled water. Marianne hadn't needed any stitches, though Bog had carefully cleaned and bandaged her wounds. She now had on a purple lightweight vented yoga tunic and some yoga pants while Bog was still in his jeans with a clean black athletic-fit shirt lying on the floor beside him waiting for him to slip on once Marianne had finished. He sat with his arms resting on his knees, a cigarette between two fingers while a lazy trail of smoke drifted upward. 

Bog closed his eyes, ignoring the pain of the needle and taking a drag on the cigarette. 

“You did really good back there,” he murmured blowing out a stream of smoke. 

Marianne made a rude noise. “Yeah, crying after killing that thing...real good.” 

Bog smiled. “I would be more worried if you didn't cry.” 

Marianne sighed. “I'm not even sure why I did...I mean that wasn't the first monster I've seen since being here.” 

“No, but you...” Bog started to turn, but she nudged him to stay put. 

She swallowed. “Beating something to death...” 

Bog turned causing Marianne to yelp. “Hey careful! I have a needle in your skin!” 

“You were brave and strong Marianne. If not for you I would be dead. Thank you.” He smiled over his shoulder at her. 

Marianne blushed glancing down. “Turn back around so I can finish this...god I wish I had taken a sewing class, you look like you were put together by a six year old.” 

Bog chuckled tossing the cigarette into the fire. “I'm sure it's fine. Usually I have to do stitches myself—if I can reach.” 

Marianne was quiet at that, the thought of Bog having to take care of himself here, alone, for who knew how long. After another minute she took a deep breath. “Okay, done. Not pretty, but its closed.” 

She picked up the bandage and placed it over the wound, then taped it to him. 

“There, good as new.” She smiled as he reached over and picked up the shirt, shifting his position while he pulled it over his head so that he was sitting beside her. Marianne watched him pulling the shirt on, noting the dozen of scars...the thin, wiry muscles, the way they moved under his skin. He pulled his head through, his hair looking for a moment like he had touched an electrical outlet until he ran a hand over it. 

“I...I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he said softly reaching out to grab one of the MRE's frowning to read the label in the firelight. He smiled. “Ah, here we go Chicken Teriyaki. I guess I'm taking you out for Japanese.” 

Marianne chuckled taking the package from him. “Why are you apologizing Bog? I kissed you, not the other way around.” 

Bog picked up his own bag of food staring at it for a long moment before he answered. “I've...” He took a breath. “I was careless...and...I don't want to take...” 

“Oh, now don't you dare say you don't want to take advantage of me because that was definitely not what was happening.” Marianne smiled. “I kissed you because I wanted to...and I still want to.” She set her package of food down on the floor. 

Bog frowned in confusion tilting his head. “What?” 

She pushed herself closer to him reaching up to cup his face with her left hand, her fingers lightly caressing his jaw as she whispered. “Don't wait for the perfect moment; take the moment and make it perfect.” 

Bog frowned further, glancing down at her mouth then back to her eyes. “But...you...you don't know me Marianne.” 

She smiled rubbing her nose gently against his. “Then let's get to know one another.” 

Then she kissed him. 

Bog blinked only for a second or two before he melted into her arms.


	5. Family Outing

Bog wasn’t sure if this was wrong. Kissing her didn’t feel wrong; it felt right, like the first right thing in his life in a very, very long time. Even before coming to this hellhole, everything in his life had been...wrong, off kilter. The war...the death of his friend...civilian life...but kissing Marianne...she made him feel whole, as if there was a chance for things to be different for him. A song he had heard from The Everly Brothers when he was a kid drifted through his head. 

“‘Til I Kissed You” 

“Never felt like this until I kissed you 

How did I exist until I kissed you…” 

The song was silly, but it played through his head while his lips moved over her mouth. How did I exist before I kissed you Marianne, he wondered. The sweet taste of her tongue against his own almost made him dizzy. He may have never been intimate with a woman before, but he had kissed before and it had been nothing like this. 

Marianne responded to his kiss by sliding her hands along his chest and digging her fingers into his shirt before pulling herself closer to him. There was no sound except the sound of their breathing, the shifting of their bodies against the nylon of the sleeping bags, or the brush of her fingers against the cloth of his shirt followed by the soft breathy sounds of their sighs and soft moans. 

He cupped the side of her throat, his long fingers caressed along the delicate column, the tips of his fingers played with the short hairs at the back of her neck, while at the same time pulling her closer. Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck shifting her position until she straddled his lap. 

Bog’s hand slid up to cup the back of her head tenderly, while with his other hand he held her at her waist. He was acutely aware of her body, the warmth of her, the scent of vanilla that was her skin, her hair, soft, silken tresses between his fingers. He opened his mouth wider against hers as their tongues caressed one another slowly. He was sure he had to be dreaming. This--her--all of it was too good to be real, a sweet dream amongst the nightmare that had been his life for so long. 

Marianne moaned softly. Bog’s kisses were gentle yet intensely passionate. 

Marianne reached down to grab handfuls of Bog’ shirt and yanked the cloth up, exposing his stomach as she struggled to get the shirt off of him. Bog pulled away from her long enough to reach over his shoulder and yank the shirt up and over his head. Marianne attacked his mouth instantly afterwards, cupping his narrow face between her hands. Bog held her close, his hands spread across her back as Marianne gently forced her down on his back. 

He laid down, pulled away from her mouth to stroke her face. He spoke softly, his fingertips caressed along her cheek. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” 

Marianne pressed butterfly kisses to his lips, then his cheeks and finally his eyes before she returned to his mouth. 

She smiled. “I’ve been searching for you,” she whispered, then smiled brightly. “There you are.” 

Bog pulled her against him, his kisses becoming hungry, more passionate. He ran his hands under her shirt which prompted Marianne to pull her shirt off, then swiftly unhook her bra, dropping it away. 

Bog swallowed as he stared at her. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 

Marianne chuckled softly. “When was the last woman you saw? Almost four decades ago?” 

Bog laughed, pulling her down to him. Their tongues stroked slowly against one another as Bog ran a hand through her short hair, his fingers cupping the back of her head, his other hand stroking the silken skin of her back. Marianne moaned softly, only pulling away from him to start working on his jeans, her fingers fumbling for a moment at the buttons. Bog swallowed, watching her as she worked the buttons free. She pulled his jeans open, spreading the denim material back before she pressed her hand against erection. Bog groaned dropping his head back as she squeezed gently. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip with a shy, yet coy look as she pressed and squeezed tenderly. He was hard; she could feel the heat of him transfer through the fabric of his underwear into the palm of her hand. Her heart and blood were racing, her groin tightening with desire each time he groaned at her touch. She scooted back on his legs reaching up to grab the band of his jeans and underwear at the same time and yanked, pulling the cloth down past his hips. Bog groaned and jerked at the sudden freeing of his erection. 

Marianne’s gaze was drawn to him, but instead of touching him she stood up and began to quickly undress. 

Bog’s entire body clenched at the sight of her, watching her peel away her clothing until she stood naked before him...beautiful, a goddess, salvation to be found in her arms. 

He simply laid there and stared at her, wondering briefly if he did in fact die and this was heaven. 

Marianne smiled at him, then in a voice laced with laughter she whispered, “Get undressed silly.” 

Bog blushed and quickly kicked off his shoes, awkwardly shoving his pants away until he was naked. 

Marianne’s gaze drifted over him--slim, yet a hard and wiry muscled body. She licked her lips, her desire spiking at seeing him naked. She couldn't recall ever feeling this sort of lust for someone, but it was more than that even if she couldn't identify what that was. She wanted him, wanted to hold him, care for him, protect him, and make love to him. 

She wanted so much more than sex even if she didn’t know what that was exactly. 

She studied him, lying naked before her. She could see the old scars that were littered across him like a map that chronicled the roads he had traveled to this point, the horrors he had witnessed all written on his skin, with the new wounds standing out sharply against his pale skin telling the story that she was now part of. Marianne dropped down to straddle him once more, pressing her and spread her hands against his stomach, gliding her hands up his torso, careful of his wounds, but she needed to feel every inch of his skin that she could. 

Bog sat up to kiss her neck, his hands sliding up her sides. Marianne arched at his touch while he kissed a trail down between her breasts as she arched her back further. Bog kissed his way down to her stomach, pressing his lips gently against her skin as he held her waist. He pressed his nose against her skin, her scent surrounding him. His emotions spiked, pain mixing with the pleasure. He had been alone for so long...no one to hold him, no one to care...Alone. But now she was here...an angel--his angel. Bog wanted to wrap himself around her, be wrapped by her, hold her and never let go. He swallowed back tears, but they still pricked at the corner of his eyes while he covered her body in kisses. He came back to her breasts where he slowly, gently brushed his lips against her breasts. His lips caressed her nipples, his hot breath teasing against them. Marianne groaned holding his head to her breasts. She could feel the slight dampness of his tears against her skin and it made her eyes sting with her own tears. This man...this sweet, noble man thrown into this hell alone. She tilted his head up and kissed him deeply. 

She rocked her hips against him, feeling the warmth and hardness of his erection against her. She slid along him, gasping and shuddering as she rolled her hips along his length. 

Bog moaned quietly, holding her tightly against him. He followed each kiss with a tender lick, tasting the salty vanilla of her skin, smelling the sweetness of her against him. He ran one hand down the side of her body, squeezing her hip before his calloused hand traveled along her thigh while he kissed her breast, rolling her nipple with his tongue before sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. Marianne moaned, arching her back while her fingers caressed his scalp. She continued to roll her pelvis and rub herself against him, covering him in her fluids as she edged closer and closer to a climax. She panted his name, tears rolling gently down her cheeks. “Oh...oh Bog...” 

Bog pressed his fingers into her skin continuing his gently kisses, licks and sucking on her breast altering between them, kissing and licking her skin. He brought his hands around to press against her rear, holding her down tightly against him as she moved, his breath matching her pants and gasps. He groaned softly at the sound of her quickening breath, the feel of her warmth, the wetness of her as she slid against him, grinding her hips each time he sucked gently on her breasts. 

When she came, Bog held her close, pressed his face to her breasts as she arched and cried out. “Uhh...Bog...oh..oh…” She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him tightly to her, riding out her orgasm. As she slowly came back down to earth, Marianne hissed. “I need you Bog. I need to feel you inside me.” She angled his face up so she could look into his blue eyes. They were shimmering, tears settled on the edges of his eyes, dancing on the tips of his lashes. She smiled tenderly and whispered. “Make love to me Bog...please.” 

He swallowed. “Yes Marianne.” 

With only a minor amount of shifting Marianne pierced herself on his erection, sliding down, groaning as he filled her, stretched her, the two of them becoming one. 

Bog groaned, his hands on her hips. He was unable to move, afraid he would end this too soon, his first time with this woman, with any woman--he wasn't even sure what was real anymore. He didn’t want it to end, he wanted to stay like this with her until the world crumbled around him. He wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her against him. She did the same, feeling his arms trembling. She held him tightly, stroked his hair and whispered. “It’s all right Bog. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Bog held onto her tightly and whispered, his breath brushed over her skin in a welcome tickle, “Thank you Marianne.” 

She smiled and slowly, gently started to move her hips, a tender grind, her muscles contracting around him in another embrace while her arms held him tightly against her. After only a couple of seconds of this, did Bog ease his grip on her and laid back, taking her with him. They kissed, Marianne cradling his head while she rolled her hips, Bog thrust up to meet her while kissing her tenderly. They moved together for a few moments before Bog rolled her over onto her back. She laughed softly smiling up at him. 

“You’re so handsome,” she murmured wrapping her legs around his waist. 

Bog, even buried inside her, he blushed. “You are so beautiful…I..I never...” His eyes glistened again as he thrust gently into her choking on his words. Marianne reached up to brush her thumb under his eye, wiping away the tear before she reached up with both hands, placing them tenderly on his cheeks and guided his mouth down to hers. They kissed, long, slow tender kisses while they made love until Marianne felt the building warmth of her climax race through her body. She groaned against his mouth, holding tightly to him. Just as she peaked, Bog thrust hard into her burying himself deeply releasing a profound groan as he climaxed. They held onto each other, two bodies, two souls finding comfort and solace in each others arms. 

* 

Marianne sighed, content and lying on her side facing Bog. He was smiling softly while he traced her face with his fingertips. His fingers moved softly over her face, traced her jaw, her chin. She smiled, her eyes locked with his blue ones; so lovely she thought. She smiled when his fingers touched the corner of her mouth. He stroked the pads of his fingers along her lips until Marianne giggled, sucking her lips in. 

“That tickles.” She laughed. 

Bog grinned brushing his fingers along her chin. He smiled crookedly as he gazed at her with clear, sharp emotion in his eyes. “I like your laugh.” 

Marianne blushed. “I like yours too...and your smile.” 

Bog grinned, his cheeks red. 

She reached out to trace the sharp lines of his cheeks, then along the stubble of his jaw until she came to the scars on his chin. She stroked them gently, a light frown on her lips. Her eyes burned for a moment as her emotions peaked, strong and powerful; then did the same to his lips as he had done to her. Bog laughed sucking his lips in. “You’re right--that does tickle.” 

They both laughed before Bog wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer; they rubbed noses, kissing tenderly. His tongue traced her lips, then played with the tip of her tongue before pressing his mouth to hers. They kissed tenderly before Bog pulled away, laying his forehead against hers. “I think I’m falling in love with you Marianne. No,” he corrected himself. “I know I’m falling in love with you Marianne.” 

Marianne smiled nestling her head against his chest. She closed her eyes. “I’m falling in love with you Bog...” 

Bog eased onto his back and Marianne wrapped her arm around him. Bog frowned looking up at the top of the tent. “Think we are moving too fast? I’m not...I’m not forcing you...making you uncomfortable?” 

Marianne laughed softly. “No Bog. I think we are moving just right. This place doesn't invite being slow or hesitant.” 

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. He held her tightly, never wanting to let her go. 

* 

When morning came, Bog and Marianne dressed, ate and went about getting their backpacks ready, filling them with water bottles, first aid supplies. Both of them took a bat (they both had a leather baseball bat bag slung across their backs), a camping hatchet, flashlights and anything else of use they could think of that they could carry in their backpacks or on their persons somehow. 

Bog stood in front of Marianne adjusting the tactical belt around her waist that held her hatchet and flashlight along with a hunting knife in a leather sheath that snapped onto the belt. He put his hands on the belt and shifted it around her hips a little bit to make sure it hung in such a way that she could easily yank either blade off. Marianne held her arms up smiling, her eyes on Bog as he frowned and adjusted the belt again. She liked watching the way a little crease appeared between his brow as he concentrated on what he was doing. 

He finished, straightened up, and smiled with a nod. “There--ready?” 

She grinned, reached up and cupped his face between her hands surprising him, his eyes going adorably wide. She pulled him forward and down to her before she kissed him. 

It was a lingering kiss that ended with her licking his lips before she replied. “Ready.” 

Bog blushed gazing into her eyes. He said softly. “You...” 

He pressed his lips together unable to finish what he had started to say. She could see the worry in his blue eyes, his beautiful blue eyes she thought, clear, emotional eyes. 

He couldn’t hide anything behind those eyes. Bog spoke softly, his hands reaching up to caress the sides of her throat. “You’ll be careful right?” 

She rubbed her nose against his gazing into his eyes. “I’ll be careful, but you have to promise me the same thing.” 

He reached up and covered her hands with his own. “I will.” 

Marianne’s gaze was serious. “Good. I will not lose you as soon as I found you Bog.” Her voice choked a little as the weight of realization fell on her. Decades and this strange mysterious place separated them, yet brought them together...she had to question the reality of the situation, but he felt real, alive and here and she was not going to lose this...him...she would not lose him. 

“I won’t lose you either Marianne. I can’t.” His eyes were filled with tenderness for her and pain. He knew he could not stand another loss, especially not now, not here. 

Marianne pulled him close again and kissed him deeply. 

Bog stepped back with a smile taking one of her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Well, let’s go get us some guns.” 

* 

As usual, the fog was heavy and the light was weak and watery, but most noticeable was the silence. Bog took her hand, threading his fingers with hers, which Marianne held tightly and the two of them headed off in the direction of the gunshop. 

They went along quietly, both of them paying close attention to their surroundings. There were cars parked along the sidewalks near shops that were only darkened husks. The streetlights that lined the road were mostly unlit, though a few provided weak urine yellow halos of light along the way, Marianne noted sourly. Nothing came out at them...nothing at all. They had been traveling along the main road when they both heard the muffled, distant sound of something crashing from inside one of the buildings to their left. Bog went still, listening and turning toward the sound. He let go of her hand reaching behind his back where the bag that carried his bat hung over the top of the backpack. He pulled his bat loose easily, his eyes never leaving the direction from which the sound had emanated. Marianne followed him, pulling her bat loose and held it ready. 

They heard it again, but this time the sound was accompanied by a child’s cry. 

Marianne hissed. “Bog, a child! We need to go help!” 

She started to walk toward the building where the sound had come from when Bog grabbed her by her upper arm. “No.” 

Marianne turned to stare at him. “Bog, it’s a child!” 

The sound carried to them again, a strange wail of a child crying. The sound was pitiful, a child wailing in pain. 

Marianne hissed. “Bog! We have to go help!” He couldn’t be that cruel, she thought. It didn’t make sense. 

Bog turned to her and that was when she saw the fear in his eyes. “No, it's not a child Marianne.” 

“A monster?” she asked, glancing toward the building where she could now see shadowy movement behind the darkened windows. 

“In a lot of ways, worse. Remember I told you there were other people here?” Bog’s eyes were shooting around looking for something. He started to move again as he spoke. 

“Some of them have gone…” He struggled for an appropriate word. “Feral. This place--it provides food, but not some of them…” 

Marianne looked horrified at Bog. “They’re cannibals?” That was the worst thing Marianne could think of. 

Bog nodded. “Sometimes, but they started taking to eating...the monsters. It...it changed them. I don’t think they are human anymore. I call them ghouls for lack of a better word.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose. “Ghouls?” 

Bog nodded. “Come on, we better get moving before…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence before a handful of the creatures that he had described swarmed out of the building like insects. They moved in a sort of crouching shamble that reminded Marianne of the creature Gollum from the Lord of the Rings movies.( At the same time that she thought of the reference, she realized she couldn’t share it with Bog. He might know about the books, but he would never have seen or heard of the movies.) As Marianne looked on in horrified curiosity, she realized there were five of them. As they swiftly moved closer and surrounded them, Marianne saw them clearer. Her blood ran cold as she was able to get a better look at these things that had once been human. 

The first thing she noticed was that these monsters looked like a family unit; a father, a mother, two daughters and a son. They had a human-like appearance, but their skin was too pale, almost translucent. She could see the pale blue veins running under their hairless skin. Most of them were naked, only two of them wearing the ghosts of clothing, strips of cloth clinging to their thin, skeletal frames. One of them, the tallest of the group, male, hissed then snarled. His jaw seemed to unhinge, opening wider than it should have been able to as he let out a roar that caused an ice cold pool of fear to take hold in her stomach. She could see the long, black fingernails, more like claws on their hands and feet, but their eyes were what disturbed her the most. Their eyes were the milky white of a corpse. 

Bog put his back to hers, snarling under his breath. “Fucking shit.” 

Marianne held her bat tight enough that her knuckles had turned white. She hissed at Bog as she pressed her back to his. “What do we do?” 

Bog snarled through clenched teeth. “We kill them and run.” 

As soon as the words were out of Bog’s mouth, the big ghoul lunged for Bog. 

Bog fell into a batter’s stance, his legs set wide and he used his entire torso when he swung, catching the creature in the face. The solid wood of the bat connected with the jaw; the sound echoed down the silent fog covered street. Marianne had turned around in that same instant, partially facing Bog when everything slowed down. She saw the monster’s face, a grotesque mask of a human being. She watched the bat connect and the jaw of the ghoul leader broke.. There was an awful moment when she saw the monster’s jaw flung to the side at an unnatural angle, then time sped up and the creature flew to the side, slamming against the pavement where it skidded across hard ground like an animal being hit by a car. The road ripped skin from half its monstrous face and shoulder, shredding flesh from the impact Marianne grin at how powerfully Bog had hit the thing, but then she had to face her own monsters. 

She didn’t have time to fully process Bog’s attack before two of the smaller creatures, both looking relatively female (and if Marianne had to make a guess, no older than pre-teens), leapt at her. She swung her bat, catching one of the monsters in the shoulder; there was the thick sound of the bat striking flesh, but she was certain that nothing in the creature broke. The impact sent it stumbling away from her, only to be replaced by her “sister.” The other monstrous girl slammed her body into Marianne’s, knocking Marianne and a monster to the pavement. 

Marianne gasped in pain when her head bounced on the solid ground, causing a momentary dizziness. The smaller creature landed on top of her making strange, guttural hissing sounds at her. 

Marianne barely had time to yank her bat over her, using the length of hard wood as a shield between her and the monster’s teeth. The once-human girl was sitting on Marianne’s stomach, leaning over her, hissing and snapping its jaws at her like a rabid dog. This close, Marianne could see that the creature’s teeth and tongue were black, not stained black, but actually black. The inside of its mouth was like a hole, a dark window into the now twisted soul that lay within the pale remains of a human girl. There was something thick dripping from her mouth--too thick to be saliva, Marianne noticed with disgust--as the thing snapped its teeth at Marianne struggling to take a bite. 

The monstrous girl wrapped its clawed hands around the bat leaning forward to try and snap at Marianne’s face. This close, Marianne could see bits of flesh and blood under its broken black nails and its breath smelled of rot and decay. Marianne grimaced, bile rising in her throat. She fought back the urge to vomit as she shoved with all her might, using the bat like a ram to force the thing off of her, causing the tiny monster girl to roll to the side as Marianne shoved, while at the same time she spun to her feet surprising herself with how easily she did the move. Marianne came up and swung blindly, but was rewarded by the sound of her bat connecting with one of the creatures. It wasn’t hard enough to cause any real damage, but it was enough to disorient the monster. But that was when the other landed heavily on her back shoving both of them forward. 

* 

Bog swung again as two other monsters circled him, the mother and the son, hissing and growling as thick, viscous fluid dripped from their mouths. Bog had seen what these things could do on more than one occasion. They attacked like animals, swiftly, without mercy, ripping into their victims and eating them alive, whether they were monster or human. Of all the things that roamed this cursed place, these unnerved him the most because of what they had once been--unnerved him and saddened him. They reminded him in a way of some of the people he fought beside in Vietnam. They started out at humans, but by the time they left or were killed, some of them had turned into monsters with no remorse and no morals. 

Bog shuddered, turning his thoughts away from his past and focused on the present. He couldn’t let these creatures get to Marianne. His next swing with the bat missed as the creature he had aimed for, this one the skeletally thin female, danced out of his way, the bat only cutting through air. The smaller one, the male, scrambled forward, taking a swipe at Bog. He twisted, only barely avoiding the slash of jagged claws and swung his bat down like a hammer. The hardwood cracked against the monster’s upper arm, breaking the bone in its forearm with a loud snapping sound. The creature howled, taking another swipe at Bog with it’s other hand, the clawed nails catching Bog along his forearm; the cuts weren’t deep, but they stung. Bog snarled, brought the bat around in an underhanded swing to catch the young male monster under the chin. His strike snapped the creature’s head up and back. The solid hit caused the creature to roll uncontrollably for a moment before coming up on its feet. Blackish red blood flowed from its mouth and the ripped skin that the bat had left in its wake. The creature made a gargled hiss before it scurried away and disappeared into one of the buildings, cradling his broken arm against his body. 

The larger one, now with the broken jaw, charged at Bog, hitting the taller man in the stomach with its shoulder and lifted Bog off his feet. The two of them slammed to the pavement. Bog’s hand hit and scraped against the pavement forcing his hand open, his bat rolling away from him. 

* 

Marianne stumbled with the other young female’s weight on her back. The backpack put enough distance between them that it couldn’t easily get to Marianne’s face, which was what it was trying to do. Marianne twisted around, struggling with the creature while its sister monster kept scurrying close trying to take a swipe at Marianne, but Marianne would swing the bat at her driving the little monster away. Maneuvering a few steps to the side, Marianne threw herself backwards against one of the streetlight poles that lined the sidewalks of the town. The creature let out a squawk, which only encouraged Marianne to do it again. When several backwards slams against the streetlight didn’t dislodge her, Marianne turned to the nearest vehicle and repeatedly threw herself against the side of an old Ford Mustang, shattering the window and denting the door until finally the creature released her. Marianne stumbled away, but kept her footing before she turned to the two monstrous sisters. 

Marianne snarled and slammed the head of her bat against the pavement with a vicious grin as she yelled at the two sister monsters. “Come on you bitches!” 

The smaller of the two dropped to all fours and rushed toward Marianne with its sister following close behind. Marianne let out a yell, half battle cry, half a strangled cry of rage and fear as she raised the bat over her head, putting all her strength into the downward swing. She grunted with the effort she put into her attack and the bat came down on top of the youngest monster’s head with a sickening sound, like the splitting of a melon. There was a upward splatter of blackish blood, but the monster stopped moving. It collapsed at Marianne’s feet, the only movement a few twitches. Marianne didn’t have time to contemplate what she had just done before the creature’s sister lunged with a swipe at her, claws ripping into Marianne’s shoulder. 

* 

Bog brought his hand up, grabbed the creature by the throat, barely holding it away from his face while he struggled to bite into him. The monstrous father’s clawed hands were wildly trying to rip into Bog. He was holding it off, thanking whatever there was out there that the thing wasn’t smart enough to think clearly and was instead reacting like a wild animal. Its claws landed hits on Bog, but nothing life threatening as he reached down to yank his hatchet off his belt. 

At the same time the mother monster grabbed at Bog’s legs. Bog kicked, without seeing and landed a blow to her face just as the hatchet came free. Bog snarled in anger and no small amount of frustration.. 

“Get off me, you motherfucker!!” Bog brought the hatchet up, holding the monster by its thin throat and with as much strength as he could gather from his prone position, Bog hacked the hatchet into the creature’s face. The reaction was instantaneous as it let out a horrible howl of rage and pain and started to thrash like a snake that had its head cut off. It’s death throes were so powerful that it rolled off Bog taking the hatchet with it. 

Bog pushed himself away from the monster as the monstrous mother let out a howl of rage. 

Bog hissed “Fuck!” 

It turned to glare hatefully at Bog. He fumbled for knife at his belt, but she sprang at him like a cat. Bog ripped his knife free just as the full weight of the creature’s body hit him. 

* 

The cuts on Marianne’s shoulder weren’t deep; the cloth of her jacket and shirt prevented the claws from doing more than scrape across her skin, though it still burned like a sonofabitch. Marianne dodged the next couple of quick swipes the monster took at her, weaving and ducking like a boxer until finally Marianne saw her opening. She brought the bat around and bashed the sister monster across the face. The creature let out a hiss as it stumbled to the side. Marianne kept her advantage and brought the bat down from an overhead swing to knock the creature in the other direction as the bat came down on the monster’s shoulder. The thing let out a whimper, but Marianne wasn’t going to let this monstrosity go. She swung the bat again and this time her hit caught the creature just right in the shoulder; she was rewarded with the sound of breaking bone. The monster let out a blood curdling cry and backed away from Marianne. Marianne took a step forward, her bat held over her shoulder ready to make another swing as Marianne answered the monster cry with a yell of her own. 

“AARRHH!!” Marianne snarled. The monster hissed then, turned and ran. 

Marianne took a step toward it as if she might run after it, but she stopped herself, panting heavily. That was when she heard Bog let out a cursed filled yell. 

She turned toward him just as the mother monster hit him with the full weight of her body. Marianne gasped and ran to help him as Bog and the creature twisted and rolled in a tangle of pale monstrous limbs and the man she was falling in love with. Marianne had her bat raised, but they were rolling and struggling so much there was no way she could hit one without possibly striking the other. She kept taking a step forward, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in desperate pants as she watched in fear until finally Bog let out a cry that she couldn’t tell if it was one of pain or not. The creature had gotten Bog onto his back; it sat up in a horrible parody of humanity, its face contorted with insane rage, mouth unhinged and hanging open showing the black vortex within, and clawed fingers raised over Bog. The tall man was lying prone on his back, bleeding and panting, staring at the mother creature. For a moment Marianne was sure it was going to bury its claws in Bog’s chest, but that was when Marianne saw Bog’s blade buried in the soft flesh of its neck. It clawed at its throat for a moment, but Bog reached up and grabbed the knife, yanking it out with a pull to the side to open the wound further. Black blood swelled and flowed freely down the monster’s bare breasts as it stared uncomprehending at the cause of its death. 

Bog shoved it off of him and scrambled to his feet, watching as the creature laid on its side making soft, wet gurgles as it died. 

Bog swung around, his blue eyes wide with worry. “MARIANNE?!” Desperation was clear in his voice until he saw her standing there. Marianne made a small noise and ran to him. Bog grabbed her up into his arms and held her close, squeezing her against him. “Oh God Marianne...Marianne…” 

He buried his face against her neck. Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bog...Bog…” 

They pulled back, just enough space to look into each other's eyes before they kissed.


	6. Eyes on the Prize

They had been walking almost two hours. The fog remained heavy, making the buildings and cars along the street indistinct, strange twisted shadows, yet nothing had come out to attack them since the deformed and mutated family. Marianne shivered for a moment thinking about those--creatures--that had once been human, now terrible, twisted monsters. While thinking about them made her shudder, Marianne was mostly overwhelmed with sadness, horrified at what had happened to those people. She pressed her lips together in thought...the horror of this place, what it had done that to those people...would it do the same to her? To her family? To Bog...Marianne rolled her shoulders, doing her best to let those thoughts go and focus on the task at hand, getting to this gun shop Bog had told her about. She could feel the tension in her shoulders moving down her spine. She tried to relax, silently told herself that if she were relaxed, fighting would be easier, but it was difficult--nearly impossible, she realized--for her to let herself relax. Every little sound made her jump, had her turning and ready to attack. She would become convinced a shadow was moving ahead of them only to realize it was a parked car, a streetlight, a trash can. 

She tried to pay attention to Bog instead, to note his reactions. He had a way of holding himself she noticed, where he seemed completely relaxed, but she noticed also a...tension about him, as if he could spring into action at any moment, and yet he somehow still seemed at ease. Marianne supposed he was accustomed to living this way. And then she also thought that no one should have to live this way. 

Marianne took a deep breath and released it slowly. She wasn’t sure what was worse; the lack of monsters attacking them or the almost perfect silence. At least if something came out and attacked them, she knew what to do. But this...this waiting...she hated it. 

As the two of them walked, heading deeper into the more congested, commercial area of the town, the fog grew denser, casting everything in shades of grey and created more shadows for her to worry about. While they walked they moved onto the sidewalk, though the fog had become so heavy that Marianne couldn’t see anything except the paved sidewalk right in front of them and the damp surfaces of the building facades next to them. Marianne remained close to Bog. He walked with confidence seeming to know where he was going without being able to see any landmarks. 

He glanced down at her when he felt her step closer to him, their arms almost touching. Marianne glanced up at him and for a moment, his blue eyes seemed to be the only thing with any color in the world around her. They were the bluest eyes in all the world she thought, even if they were back in the “real” world, there was no shade of blue like his eyes she thought... 

“You all right?” he asked, his voice soft. He reached out and took her hand in his, threading his fingers with hers. Marianne felt her body ease a bit at his touch. 

“Yeah...just...stressed,” she said softly. The fog and silence seemed to encourage whispering. 

“I understand. It's like this a lot of the time, hours of seeing nothing at all, silent, or if you do hear something, it's far away. Sound carries oddly here, but most of the time, it’s like this--quiet.” Bog squeezed Marianne’s hand, stroking his thumb gently over the back of her hand. “It’s hard...was hard when I first arrived. I mean, I was already used to being constantly on alert even after the war, never able to sleep more than an hour, every little sound putting me on high alert.” He frowned as he spoke. “ I can’t imagine what it must be like for you,” Bog said gently before he continued. “During the war, there would be these long intervals of nothing, no shooting, no fighting, followed by these small, intense moments of violence, fighting…death.” Bog’s voice trailed off. “Those moments of peace, of silence were the worst because you knew something was out there, waiting for a chance to strike. Men with guns, bombs, knives…they were waiting to kill you, and you them…” Bog’s voice softened in tone, for a moment his gaze drifted off. She could tell he wasn’t there, but somewhere else, somewhere equally as frightening and harsh. He whispered. “The only difference between there and here was that here I know exactly who the bad guys…in Vietnam, it wasn’t as clear...I wasn’t sure who was right or wrong...or whether what I was doing was right anymore…” Bog stopped moving and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. Marianne could feel the pain washing over him before he spoke again. “At least here I know where I stand. I know right from wrong, the bad from the good. There is still some grey, but not like it was during the war...not like when I came home.” He swallowed. “To me, this place holds less to be afraid of than being back home does.” 

Bog looked so haunted, haunted by what he had experienced in the “real” world, by the war she had only ever read about. It made her hurt for him, that this horrifying, impossible place was less frightening to him than reality had been. Marianne squeezed his hand. She wanted to take all that pain away for him. She wanted to help him heal. Marianne’s bottom lip trembled as she gazed at his profile. She realized at that moment she would do anything for him, anything to make the pain go away. 

“I’m sorry Bog,” Marianne said gently, as she glanced up at his profile. “I...I didn’t realize…” She liked his sharp features, his long nose, sharp cheeks and chin. Gazing at him brought her a sense of comfort, she only hoped she could provide him the same comfort. 

Bog smiled. “Nothing for you to be sorry about Marianne. You weren’t even born then.” 

Marianne stopped walking to stare at Bog. He frowned as his arm was jerked by her stop, turning to look at her quizzically, but Marianne had begun to giggle. Bog frowned deeper. 

“Marianne?” 

She dropped his hand, putting both her hands on her knees as she laughed harder. Bog looked around then hissed. 

“Marianne...uh...you might want to quiet down. I know we haven't come across anything in a while, but...are you all right?” Bog reached out and gently stroked her hair. 

She looked up at him as tears of mirth rolled down her cheeks. “I wasn’t even born.” 

Bog frowned in concern. “Yeah…” 

She stood up wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands trying to stifle her giggles and snorts, but she was clearly having difficulty. “Just...God Bog...I wasn’t even born. It just...just sorta hit me how weird that is...how weird that you are here and I am here...just…” She reached out and took both his hands. “Sorry...the absurdity of it all just hit me.” She pressed her lips together hard trying not to laugh, but she snorted and started to giggle again. 

Bog smiled, then chuckled, then began to laugh. “Yeah...I guess if I were still around in your time I would be an old man.” 

Marianne giggled. “I would still date you.” 

“Liar.” Bog chuckled in return. 

Marianne smiled up at him, her brown eyes bright. “I would.” 

Bog tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body up against his and rested his chin on her head. He simply held her while she pressed her face to his chest; her giggles rumbled against him. He smiled, doing his best not to laugh with her, but his stifled giggles made him sound like he was going to choke until finally Bog let himself laugh. The two of them stood in the middle of the sidewalk holding each other as they laughed at the situation they were in, the nightmare suddenly funny because it had brought them both the one thing they hadn’t been able to find on the other side...each other, perhaps love, real love...this horrible place had provided them both with a gift...something time would never have given them. 

They both continued to giggle, holding on tightly to each other until finally Bog was able to catch his breath. 

He looked down at her with a smile. “I would see you and admire you from afar if we had met during your time period. I would wonder what might have been if I had been younger and I might have been a pervert and thought about you.” 

Marianne, her arms tight around his waist, squeezed with a chuckle. “When we get back we can…” she started to say, but Bog pressed his mouth to hers, lifting her up enough that she was forced to stand on her toes in order to reach him, keeping their lips pressed together. Bog had purposely cut off her words with the kiss. As he opened his mouth to her, the kiss becoming something deep, he realized he was stalling getting into a more comprehensive discussion about returning to the real world. He didn’t want to speculate about returning to the “real” world. He didn’t want to think about what might happen too much...where he would return to...when he would return to...he only wanted to focus on getting the book. One step at a time... 

* 

Dawn had slipped outside and made her way to the back yard of the house. She had been here in this strange place long enough that she and Bog had started a garden. The garden, located in the back yard of their little sanctuary house, was small, situated near the back door. It was still dangerous out here, but she knew how to be careful. She had a knife in one hand--a steak knife she had gotten from the kitchen--a bottle with a little rain water in her other hand, and made her way barefoot, outside. Sunny and her father were still sleeping. She figured she could come out here quickly and check on the garden. She and Bog hadn’t had much success with growing much, but the carrot seeds had taken and had actually produced carrots in a record amount of time. Dawn didn’t question that quick growth. Time made little sense here. And the carrots hadn’t been mutated; they tasted like carrots. The only thing about them that was different than other carrots was that they lacked color; the orange, the greens were muted, greyed out... Dawn, dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized white t-shirt, stepped outside quietly. Her bare feet made little sound as she stepped off the last step and onto the thin grass. The backyard would have been pretty she thought as she stood by the last step looking out into the yard. If the grass had been thicker, flowers planted along the house and fence, but as it was the ground here was only partially covered in grass with large patches of grey dirt. The whole thing looked sad and washed out to Dawn. She sighed and made her way over to the little garden. 

The garden was a tiny patch of ground that Bog had dug and prepared for her to experiment. 

Dawn hurried over to the garden, stepping over the string fence she and Bog had put up around the tiny area, with empty tin cans hanging from the string to act as an alarm system, not that anything had ever disturbed the garden. 

Dawn carefully stepped over the string and made her way over to the vegetables she had planted a few weeks...or was it days she wondered...she couldn’t be sure. Time was such a funny thing here she thought. She hurried over and dropped to a crouch as she grinned with delight when she saw that the peas she had planted were growing, and some were even ripe enough for her to harvest. 

Dawn grinned brightly and began to pick some of the peas, holding up the end of her t-shirt to act as a basket. She was so involved in her task that she didn’t notice the ground shift outside the garden. 

Something moved slowly under the ground, breaking the earth above it silently. 

Dawn stood up, her shirt filled with pea pods and turned back toward the house just as something huge burst out of the ground in front of her. 

The creature was shaped like a worm with purplish-pink colored skin that glistened with slime and coated the whole length of the creature. The slime was so thick on the monster that the ground around it was covered in the thick, viscous substance. 

Dawn screamed, dropped her peas and the creature responded with its own scream. Its thick skin split vertically, opening up to reveal a fleshy, eyeless, noseless head. The monster opened its wide mouth in response to Dawn’s scream to reveal a huge, gaping mouth full of flat, human-like teeth. The sound that came from the creature was a wet, gargling like sound that started low and climbed to a pitch so high that Dawn was forced to cover her ears just as several panes of glass in the windows of the house burst at the sound. 

Dawn backed away with another scream. The monster was between her and the house. 

* 

Sunny’s eyes flew open. He was lying on the bed he shared with Dawn, his hands tucked under his cheek, curled on his side. For a moment he was confused, thinking that everything had been a dream, but then he heard that horrible sound once more. The entire house rattled with the monstrous cry. He sat up, covered his ears immediately looking around for Dawn when he realized she wasn’t in bed with him. 

The color drained from Sunny’s face as he realized she wasn’t here. Sunny told himself he was wrong; she was here, he just couldn’t see her. He stood up as Dagda came rushing over to him from the back of the basement room. 

“Dawn? She has to be outside!” The older man grabbed Sunny by the front of his shirt, nearly yanking the younger man off his feet. 

Sunny grabbed her father’s hands which were curled so tightly into Sunny’s shirt he threatened to tear the cloth. “Why? I mean, how would you know that? Why would she…” Sunny tried to keep the panic from creeping into his words. 

Dagda shook his head in desperation, his eyes wide with fear. “The garden...she has to be…” He hissed through clenched teeth. 

Dagda stared at Sunny. The old man’s hands tightened more as he lifted the young man off his feet with strength born from fear. “We have to save her! You have to save her!” The older man shook Sunny. 

“Mr. Summerfield?” Sunny frowned in confusion. The older man’s eyes had gone frighteningly wide and he had gone suddenly very pale, all the color drained from the older man’s face as he continued to shudder. “My baby...my baby girl…” 

Dagda released his hold on Sunny. Dagda took a step backwards from Sunny, at the same time Dawn’s father grabbed his other arm, falling to his knees as his face contorted in pain. 

“Shit!” Sunny reached down for the older man, easing him down to the floor and laying him on his back. 

“Mr. Summerfield! Mr. Summerfield...shit shit shit!! Tell me what to do!” Sunny pleaded just as another roar sounded from above them. 

Dagda gasped for breath. “Heart...heart attack…” he hissed through his clenched teeth. 

Sunny cursed again, but Dagda reached up and grabbed the young man by the collar of his shirt with surprising strength. 

“Go, save...my daughter!” Dagda snarled. 

Sunny nodded. “You stay here, hold on Mr. Summerfield...just hold on.” 

Dagda nodded as Sunny got to his feet racing for the stairs. He took the stairs two at a time bursting through the door into the kitchen. He looked around for just a second, locating the door to the backyard, where, leaning against the wall next to the door he saw a shovel. Sunny didn’t question his good luck. He raced toward the door, at the same time grabbing the shovel as he burst through the door. 

* 

Marianne frowned and turned in Bog’s arms, a shiver running up her spine when she heard the distant roar of some monster. 

“Bog...what…?” Marianne began, but Bog, looking in the same direction as Marianne shook his head. “I don’t know. We should keep moving. The shop is maybe another hour’s walk.” 

Marianne nodded though she still looked back in the direction she had heard the sound and hoped her sister, father and Sunny we're all right. 

Bog tilted her head up and smiled. “They’re fine tough girl. They stay in the house, they’ll be safe.” 

She smiled softly. “How did you know I was thinking about them?” she asked. 

Bog shrugged. “I thinking about them too.” 

He reach up to brush her jaw with his fingertips. Marianne tilted her head back slightly. Bog took the invitation and kissed her. 

Marianne melted against him, the kiss tender yet passionate. His tongue in her mouth sent warm, liquid shivers down her spine. He made her want to hide away with him, make love and forget everything, just to stay in his arms. Bog leaned in, deepened the kiss, his hand sliding around to gently cup her throat, his hand at her back pressed her to him, spreading his fingers to touch more of her, to feel more of her. Marianne wrapped her arms tight around him, pressing herself into his kiss… Bog pulled away from her, breathless. He closed his eyes tight, pressing his forehead against hers. Marianne did the same, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip, breathing heavily through her nose. Roland never, ever kissed her liked this she thought...Never. 

Bog licked his lips. “Let’s...ah...let’s get going.” 

Marianne nodded, stepped out of his embrace, but he took her hand. She couldn't help but smile; despite all of this...holding his hand felt right. 

* 

Marianne felt as if they had been walking for hours when Bog said softly, “We’re here.” 

Holding her hand he hurried across the street, after a few seconds Marianne realized they were now in a parking lot. There were abandoned cars and a few shopping carts littered around. The parking lot seemed big for a gun store. Not that she had a lot of experience with gun shops. 

Back home there was only one that she knew about. It was a small place set in an old building with bars on the window and a sign that read “Fred’s Gun and Pawn Shop” over the top in red, white and blue. Parking was maybe five spaces in the back or along the curb up front. But as Bog led her through the parking lot and fog to the front of this shop, she realized this was not a dinky little hole in the wall gun store. 

The building in front of her had to be at least the size of a Wal-mart superstore. It was huge; not a “shop” at all. The sign across the top read “Sweeny’s Gun Vault” and peppered around the larger sign were smaller ones that advertised a shooting range inside, new and used guns, ammo, and police equipment. But the thing about the shop that stood out the most was that the entire place was covered in what looked like webs. Thick, white, webbing covered nearly the entire place so thoroughly the entrance was obscured. 

Bog stopped short when he saw the condition of the gun shop. Marianne could feel the tension rolling off of Bog as he glared at the shop. 

“Fuck,” he muttered looking over the place. 

“Bog, what is it?” Marianne asked in hushed tones. She could just see a hint the windows behind the webbing. She couldn’t be completely sure, but it looked as if the webbing continued inside the store. Part of her was worried that she knew exactly what Bog was going to say, but she hoped she was wrong...oh please let me be wrong, she thought to herself. 

“It’s a fucking spider.” He nearly spat. “I fucking hate spiders.” 

Marianne frowned. “A spider or spiders?” she stressed the “s” as she glanced between him and the building. 

Bog turned to look at her. She could see he was slightly pale as he muttered. “Both.” 

Marianne swallowed. 

Bog reached for the knife at his hip. He muttered. “If we had fire, this would be a whole lot easier, a few molotovs...a grenade…” 

Marianne unhooked her own knife. “Could we…” she started but Bog shook his head. “Just wishful thinking on my part. A molotov or grenade could just as easily make things worse, attract other monsters or send a swarm of spiders onto us all at once…and as big as that place is, a molotov will either only burn a small section or light the whole thing on fire.” Bog cracked his neck then rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the shop. “We also would risk getting ourselves trapped inside by the fire…Not good inside a building with ammunition.” Bog let out a frustrated breath through his nostrils. “I wish we had a big can of bug spray…” 

Marianne blinked, then giggled. Bog glanced sideways at her and smiled before turning his attention back to the shop. “Whatever is in there is probably going to know we are inside fairly quickly. We move carefully…” He swallowed. “We need to kill the spider at the center of the web--we do that, the smaller ones will flee.” He added mentally, I hope. 

Marianne rubbed her lips together. “You think we really need to go in there?” 

Bog nodded. “I’m afraid so. What’s at the library is a lot worse. We’ll need the guns.” 

Marianne took a deep breath. “Okay, well then…” She rolled her shoulders before switching her knife to her left hand and pulling her bat out of its carrying case on her back. 

She swung the bat a few times making a “swoosh” sound through the air. 

“Let’s go kill some spiders.” 

Bog grinned at her, getting his bat ready too. “That’s very sexy by the way.” 

Marianne giggled. “Well, after this you can show me just how sexy you think it is.” 

Bog smiled. “You’re on.” 

* 

Marianne watched as Bog quickly cut through the spider silk that covered the entrance to the store. The stuff was sticky and Bog kept having to stop and rub his hands on his thighs, but he worked swiftly through the white mess. While watching him, Marianne realized that the silk strength varied; it wasn’t equally strong everywhere, but had places where the silk was weak, allowing for easier cutting. Hopefully that would work to their advantage...she tried to ignore the cold pit in her stomach that was forming. Walking into a spiders’ nest...she tightened her grip on her weapon as Bog finished cutting the door free. 

He pulled the door open slowly, the door moving surprisingly easily. He glanced at Marianne with a little smile before he stepped inside. Marianne stayed close behind him, her eyes darting around, on full alert. Once inside she stepped up to stand beside him, the two of them looking into the web choked store. The inside of the gun store--or what little Marianne could see with the lack of lights and the thick webbing--seemed to be filled with guns. She was expecting that, ”gun store” she thought, but she was simply blown away by the sheer amount of guns! Shotguns and rifles lined the walls near her, disappearing into darkness and webbing. There were glass cases full of pistols, attachments...and who knew what else there was in the depths of the store that they couldn’t see, but what really drew Marianne’s attention was the “thing” hanging from the middle of the ceiling. 

Suspended from the ceiling like a twisted disco ball, was a nearly perfectly round sac made from webbing. 

Bog swallowed studying the huge, suspended ball. He estimated that he and at least another six full grown men could sit inside the sack with room to spare. Bog thought that maybe he saw movement inside the sac, or maybe it was a pulse. He didn’t know. The sac seemed to breathe on its own, but with no light and the ambient glow from outside being filtered through the webbing, it was hard for Bog to be sure. 

Marianne stared up at the monstrous “thing” and said through tension clenched teeth, “That’s disgusting.” 

Bog was about to answer when they heard movement above them. They both took a step backwards as something with long, thin appendages that ended in small, wickedly sharp clawed toes came into view. The creature moved with the unworldly grace that only something designed to move with eight legs could achieve. It moved around to the side of the ball and stopped. 

What Marianne saw next, she knew would haunt her nightmares as long as she lived. The spider was easily the size of a couple of mini Coopers. It’s body, the large bulbous back side and the flat, splayed front were all in shades of blacks and greys, but she and Bog could see a tiny patch of red that ran from the front to the back, a dark, blood red that caught what little light was in the store. The entire spider glistened as if its whole body was wet. Marianne could see a thick “goo” slide along the monster’s body as it moved around the pulsing ball. 

The spider seemed to suddenly sense their presence. Its whole body whipped around, turning to face them and Marianne saw what she knew was the worst part monster...its face. The spider had several eyes, like most spiders, two large ones on top, and its six smaller eyes formed a row under the larger eyes. What made Marianne want to scream was the human-like face that was stretched across its own spider face, yet was also part of the creature. The “face” looked almost human, but a distorted, stretched human face. It was pale flesh colors, with holes where the eyes should be allowed the spider’s large eyes to see through the skin. There was a flat human nose, and a mouth with thick fleshy lips. The spider’s feelers were tiny human-like forearms that ended with hands, the fingers of which were overly long, and moved back and forth against each other as the monster turned to face them. 

The spider hissed. “Huumaans…”


	7. They Slither and Crawl

Sunny burst into the weak, watery grey daylight, the shovel tight in his hands and held over his shoulder like a baseball player. His eyes nearly bugged when he saw the creature, a giant, pinkish pale worm. 

“Fuck me,” Sunny muttered in shock. 

His shock was short lived when he saw Dawn. The creature swung its head to the side, out of the way that Sunny could see the younger Summerfield sister. She was pinned between a small garden shed and a large water collecting drum. She was on her rear, her legs drawn up as if she were doing her best to make herself as small as possible. Both hands covered her mouth as she stared up in horror at the monstrosity. She wasn’t making a sound. 

The way the creature was moving, weaving its head slowly back and forth as if it were sensing the air or...Sunny realized that it was listening for her. It was blind, it had to be! Dawn was right in front of it, but it didn’t attack her. It was acting as if it couldn’t see her and by the way Dawn wasn’t moving, her hands over her mouth...Sunny couldn’t be positive, but he was simply going to have to take that chance to save her and hopefully get back to somehow save her father. 

Sunny adjusted his grip on the shovel, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. He swallowed, glancing once more at Dawn before he yelled at the top of his lungs. 

“DAWN RUN!” 

The worm monster’s reaction was immediate; the upper half of its body whipped around to face Sunny with surprising speed. 

Dawn’s eyes widened until they were nearly circles. She began to open her mouth, to shout or call his name, but Sunny couldn’t let that happen. 

“GO NOW!” he yelled. 

And then the monster lunged forward at him. 

Sunny yelped and jumped out of the way, whipping the shovel in front of himself as if did. Both he and the monster were surprised when Sunny swung the tool and landed a hard strike against the side of the monster’s head. The impact made a solid, meaty sound, though the vibration from the impact rolled up Sunny’s arms almost causing him to lose his grip on the shovel. 

The monster made a muffled sound that was half roar, half whine muffled by the flesh of its head which then split open vertically, the sound releasing as if a valve had been open. The split in its flesh didn’t just reveal it’s head, but Sunny got a good look as the mouth opened wide to reveal the large white “human-like” teeth. Sunny paled at the sight. The urge to run was almost too much for him to resist. That animal part of him, the part that wanted to survive, that didn’t want to acknowledge such horror urged him to flee, to find safety in a small dark space, but he had to kill this thing. He knew he couldn’t run, he had to face it. He didn’t know if it could get into the house. According to Bog it couldn't, but he wasn’t willing to take a chance only to find out that Bog was wrong. No Sunny thought to himself, he couldn't run; he had to protect Dawn and her father. He swung the shovel again, smashed the creature across its now open face. The end of the shovel slid across the fleshy head, tearing into the monster’s pink flesh and cutting into it. Foul yellow-green blood seeped from the flesh. As Sunny finished the swing, the end of the shovel dragged across the teeth of the creature creating a loud scraping of metal against the monster’s teeth that made Sunny’s skin crawl. The monster let out another whine-like cry followed by the pink fleshy skin vibrating along its sides. Sunny watched in fascinated horror as the skin on either side of the creature split open to reveal whip like appendages on that extended from the sides of the monster. 

Sunny groaned. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

* 

Bog hissed. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Marianne hissed in surprise. “It speaks?” 

The spider’s hissing voice moved over them, making their skin crawl. “Tell me huumaans….whaat isss it yoouu want?” 

Bog frowned, looking unsure what to do, but he shrugged and took a chance. “We only want some weapons, then we’ll leave.” 

The spider moved very slowly, crawling sideways. Marianne took a step back closer to Bog, both of them moving to keep the spider in front of them. It tilted its strange head to the side, studying them. It’s voice had a faint feminine quality to it, something in the pitch Marianne thought, and the way it held its head made her think female. 

The spider skittered to one side then the other as it spoke, its strange gaze on Bog. “I knnows of youuu huuman...onne of the deathless...yoou...aare one oof the loost...alone.” It snickered. “Alllwayss apart...allways aalone...but yoou haave a little frriend...” She looked at Marianne and the strange lips pulled back in a smile. “Preetty pretty…” 

Marianne shuddered and stepped back until her shoulder touched Bog. She felt him shift in such a way that he touched her, letting her know he knew and understood her fear and discomfort. 

Bog narrowed his gaze at the creature, but didn’t say anything as the spider seemed to rock in place for a bit, a weird grin on its mask-like face. 

“Whhyy I giivve you weeapons? Yoou wannt weapons to kill...kill...killlllll...” She snickered. “Whhaat do I get huummann? Iif I ggive yyoou weapons...whaaat does Annnie get?” As the spider spoke slowly, the weird human mask it wore moved, the lips forming the words in a way that made Marianne shudder. It was named Annie? 

Bog glanced at Marianne, his grip on the bat tightening and his hands grew sweaty. “What do you want?” he asked, though he felt a coldness moved over him. He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. 

The spider shifted again moving higher up, and just out of reach, Bog noted. Smart monster, he thought. 

“I waant...her…” It pointed one long limb at Marianne, the tip sharp and pointed like a sword. “I waant the preetty…” 

Bog immediately moved to place himself between Marianne and the monster. “I don’t think so.” 

The spider hissed. “Greedy huuman!! Keep aaall the sweets meeats to itself! Yoou are theee aloonnee….no pretties foor youu...thoosee are the rules.” 

“Rules?” Bog frowned and lifted the bat up higher while keeping the monster in sight. 

Marianne did the same, though she felt a deep cold wash over her at the thought that this thing wanted her. 

The spider scrambled across the ceiling. Bog and Marianne moved watching it, making certain that the creature did not position itself above them. 

She laughed. “Annie knnowws the ruulles...yoouu...the alone, the deeathless know noothing. Giive mme the pretty, I lleet yoou goo aallonne…” 

Bog snarled. “You’ll never have her. I’ll kill you and take what I want.” 

The spider laughed and then rasped, “Yoou will booth die…” 

She threw herself off the ceiling at them. 

Marianne screamed. She couldn’t help it, but she kept enough of her senses about her that she stepped to the side and swung her bat at the same time that Bog, snarling, did the same thing. Marianne struck one of the spider’s legs while Bog hit it across it’s mask-like face. The spider screamed and scrambled away into the darkness, disappearing into the store’s shadows. 

Marianne glanced at Bog and said in a tight voice. “This is creepy.” 

Bog grinned at her, but she could see the fear and discomfort in his eyes. He was putting up a good front, but he was as scared as she was. Marianne didn’t know why, but the fact that Bog was scared made her feel better. He whispered in response. “You’re telling me.” 

They moved without a word to stand with their backs together, turning to keep a look out for the monster, but the store was dark and filled with webbing making it nearly impossible to see anything beyond a few paces. They turned together trying to guard each other’s backs. 

Bog heard a sound to his right. He turned toward it, hissing at Marianne. “Stay behind me.” 

Marianne frowned turning slightly to tell him that she was not going to stay behind them, they were in this together and they would fight together when suddenly the spider that called itself Annie surged out of the darkness. It's upper body was raised, its weird hand like feelers stretched out, its deadly, spear-like legs raised high and ready to pierce Bog. 

Bog swung his bat with a grunt to strike it again across its face. The spider hissed in pain and anger, falling back only a step before it slashed out with one of its legs. Bog flung himself to the left while Marianne was forced to throw herself to the right putting space between them. Bog glanced over at Marianne and his blue eyes locked with her brown ones. She felt a surge of feeling. She loved him and she could see it in his gaze, he loved her too, a hot, intense love of two people thrown together by impossible odds, a love that came swift and intense, but she could tell that Bog was going to do something that might break her heart. There was something in his eyes that made her blood run cold. He was going to do something stupid, she could just tell...And then he turned and threw himself at the spider. 

* 

Both tentacles were lined at the ends with a dozen or more tiny spikes. That was bad enough Sunny thought, but then the ends of the tentacles split open, each peeling back to reveal a mouth also lined with teeth along with the additional spiked parts around it. 

“Now that is just overkill,” Sunny muttered in frustrated horror. 

One of the tentacles snapped forward and Sunny swung his shovel, but he wasn’t fast enough for the other one that whipped out and knocked his feet out from under him. 

Sunny hit the ground hard, his face slamming into the dirt. He tasted blood. 

Both tentacles rose up and came down at him like spears. Sunny rolled out of the way, and the two tentacles struck into the space where he had been only a second before. The worm let out a scream and whipped its head toward him. He rolled trying to put some space between him and the monster, but for a big sightless bastard, it was moving pretty damn fast he thought. He rolled until he ran out of space, his body slamming up against the fence. He looked up, the worm having turned toward him, it's too human looking mouth open in a scream, the mouth tentacles poised over him ready to spear him to death when he heard Dawn yell. 

“Get away from him you bitch!” 

The worm whipped around toward her with its mouth open and tentacles waving. 

Sunny saw her standing at the back door armed with what looked like a makeshift flamethrower attached to her back and three bottles with rags hanging out of the top of them at her feet. She held a fourth bottle and flipped a flame into life with a lighter in her other hand, lit the rag, and in the next instant threw it to smash the creature in the ‘face.’ The bottle broke to release burning liquid across the beast. The scream that rose up was a horrible, gurgling noise that was accompanied by a smell like burning hot dogs. 

Dawn yelled. “Sunny!!” 

Sunny was on his feet, running for all he was worth, not just trying to get past the monster, but to get to Dawn as fear for her made his blood run cold. The monster whipped it's now burning body around, the screams emanating from it becoming higher pitched as the flames raced along its body. Dawn picked up another bottle and lit it threw it at the thrashing creature. The glass broke against the creature, dousing it in more flames. Sunny was almost to Dawn when suddenly one of the tentacles lashed out and hit him across the chest sending the short man flying backwards. 

Dawn screamed. “SUNNY!” 

He hit the ground, tumbled for a few seconds before he stopped and laid still. 

Dawn’s eyes widened, but her expression turned hard, angry. She looked down at the nozzle of the makeshift flamethrower. It was still experimental. Bog had been working on it for ages it seemed trying to get it to work properly and safely. Dawn knew it didn’t work like it should, but it was the only thing she could think of that might work against this monstrous worn. She was willing to take the chance in order to save Sunny. She flicked the switch. There was a sound like liquid sizzling on a pan followed by a burst of smoke. Dawn wrinkled her nose in determination as she held the nozzle up and pulled the trigger. 

A burst of bright orange and red flame that looked startlingly bright against the grey, foggy atmosphere, erupted from the flamethrower. Dawn struggled for a moment to keep it under her control. The flame bursting forth had a lot more power than she had anticipated, with actual recoil. She swung the nozzle around, but she had the nozzle aimed too low. The fire burst along the ground, burning the grass and spreading quickly. Dawn watched in horror as the garden that she and Bog had grown together started to burn. She didn’t have time to ponder what the garden’s destruction meant as she continued to struggle for a couple of more seconds to get the flame up and aimed at the monster. 

The flames from the molotovs Dawn had thrown at the giant worm were already out, the monster’s thrashing--and perhaps its viscous coating--having doused the flames. 

As soon as the pain of burning had stopped, the monster turned with a roar toward Dawn. The worm rushed forward, heading toward the sounds of the flamethrower. 

Dawn struggled, trying not to panic as she brought the nozzle up and squeezed the trigger again. This time the flames burst forth in a straight line toward the monster just as the worm roared again, its fleshy head exposed. The flame erupted into the monster face, flesh sizzling, becoming blackened and charred. Its mouth and horrid teeth burned. The monster’s cry of agony was so high pitched and loud that Dawn was forced to drop the flamethrower’s nozzle in order to cover her ears. It thrashed and screamed. Dawn needed to get past it to Sunny. She could see his unmoving form through the flames that were engulfing the garden, but the creature’s screams of pain and thrashing were making it difficult to move; the pain its screams caused made Dawn dizzy, but just when she thought she couldn’t take any more the giant worm reared back, closed its head and thrust back down into the earth. Within seconds, it was gone. 

Dawn didn’t hesitate. She raced into the burning garden to get to Sunny. He looked bad, covered in dirt, blood dripping down his chin from his mouth. She frantically felt at his throat for a pulse and was rewarded by the steady beat of his heart against her fingertips. 

Dawn unslung the flamethrower from around both shoulders to sling it over just one, like she had carried her backpack all through high school and with her other hand. She did her best to lift Sunny up, surprising herself with her sudden feat of strength, then, as the garden burned around her, she began the slow struggle of getting Sunny back inside. 

* 

Bog pushed Marianne back, forcing her out of the way as he threw himself between the spider and her. She didn’t have time to register what he was doing until he was already doing it. The spider’s deadly leg came down, missed Bog, but he was thrown to the floor and lost his bat as it rolled away from him. 

Bog scrambled for a moment, yanking his knife out and as he surged to his feet, he stabbed upward. The spider sidestepped, prevented the blade from jamming into its abdomen, but he did cut her. Annie screeched in pain and thrashed out with her legs to hit Bog hard enough that she sent him flying across the space to slam into a display hidden under thick webs. 

Marianne gasped. “Bog!” 

She snarled and hit the spider across a long, sharp leg hard enough that Marianne managed to knock the spider creature off balance. Marianne followed that by bringing the bat down on Annie’s head with an over head chop of the bat. The sturdy wood landed squarely on the spider’s head with a heavy, hard sounding thunk! 

The monster squealed in pain and backed away, running backwards up the wall and back toward Bog who had just risen to his feet. He was struggling to pull himself free from the webbing, trying to use his knife to cut himself free when the spider charged him, flinging herself off the wall and into Bog, knocking him down again with her fat bulbous body on top of him. Her feeler hands reached out for him, saliva dripping from her mouth as she reached to grab his head. Her long fingers tangled in his hair, yanking Bog’s head toward her waiting fanged mouth. 

Bog hauled his head back and brought his knife up, cutting off a couple of the fingers on her feelers. 

Annie screeched with pain and rage. She lunged at him, knocking Bog’s knife from his hands with a swiped of a feeler, the blade skittering across the floor and out of his reach. He was forced to reach up and grab at her feelers to stop them from ripping into his face. 

* 

Marianne ran at the spider with a scream of rage. She slammed her bat down on the back of the spider’s body, slamming her bat over and over against into the creature’s back. It’s back seemed hard, resistant to Marianne’s bludgeoning assault, but Marianne swung a few more times when she felt something against her foot. She looked down and saw Bog’s knife. Marianne dropped her bat and grabbed up the blade. 

* 

Annie lunged and Bog lost his grip on her feelers. She reached downward and dragged the ragged nails of her hands across his cheeks leaving bloody marks behind. Bog snarled in pain and the spider laughed. 

“Sttuupid oone...sttupid deathless...sttupid lost one!” she hissed and reared back, ready to spear Bog with one of her sharp, dagger-like legs when pain seared through her entire body, hot and vicious. 

Annie reared up and screeched, turning around to see Marianne lunging again, the knife she held dripping with black blood. 

“Thhee prreety!!” The spider screeched as she turned fully to face Marianne. 

Marianne danced back a few steps, but when the spider lunged at her, the angry woman snarled and stabbed forward, the blade catching the spider in one of her eyes. 

Annie shrieked in agony, backing away. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Marianne hissed as she pressed her attack, charging at the spider. 

The spider bowled over her knocking her flat on the back. That was when Marianne saw the horrible, wickedly pointed stinger at the end of the spider’s lower abdomen. This creature reminded Marianne of Shelob as the spider arched and lunged at her with the stinger. Marianne rolled out the way, just barely moving in time to avoid having the stinger embedded in her belly. 

The spider tried twice more when she was struck from the side. She twisted to see Bog, blood dripping down his face and holding Marianne’s bat. 

“You are one stupid bitch,” Bog growled between clenched teeth. 

That was the moment when Marianne thrust up with the knife and yanked sideways, scooting herself as quickly as she could against the linoleum floor of the gun store, ripping the knife along the monster’s belly and spilling the gooey, thick pus-like contents of Annie’s belly onto the floor of the store. 

Marianne gasped, startled by the muck as she hurriedly tried to get away from it. 

Bog rushed to grab Marianne and haul her out of the way as the spider began to jerk, spewing more gore from its wounds and its mouth. 

The spider shrieked, backing away and leaving a trail of vile yellow-green pus in her wake, but her long legs began to slip in her own fluids. She stumbled to the side, listed again, her legs going weak as she continued to back up, her hissing voice becoming weaker. 

“Yoouu will neever escaape deathless...yoouu...likke the oothers are doooomed...alone...forgootteen...” 

Bog snarled. “Shut up!” 

He took a swift step toward the beast and swung the bat one more time to hit the monster in the face, ripping away the human-like mask it wore. The creature’s cry was loud and gargled as the mask was torn away leaving behind a skinless mess of yellow pus and bulging eyes. The spider back up another step before she finally collapsed in her own gore. She twitched a handful of times until she finally, mercifully went still. 

Marianne and Bog both stared at the dead monster. Marianne began to tremble. 

Bog dropped the bat and pulled Marianne into his arms to hold her tightly, turning his body away from the spider’s corpse, and holding Marianne’s head cradled against his chest.


End file.
